It's Always Been You
by Beej88
Summary: After a horrible accident that left Mamoru orphaned at six-years-old, he happened to encounter a bright-eyed, blonde-haired four-year-old in the hospital. What if it wasn't just one encounter? What if they'd remained friends? AU/No Senshi/angsty fluff ahead!
1. Prologue

**Hello, lovely fanfiction readers!** So, this is not an update to Collide. For those of my readers that follow that story... I am so very sorry, and I promise that I will not leave that story unfinished. BUT, I needed some fluffiness in my life. This story is pure fluff! It is already completed, outlined beautifully, ready to be posted for you! I truly hope that you guys like this story, as it is so very different from any of the things I have written.

 **Shout out** to two very beautiful, and talented ladies. My Bae-tas, my favourite Moonie friends, **Ninjette Twitch** and **Revy679.** They are both super talented, and if you haven't checked them out, you totally should!

Without further ado... please read, and if you like it, please review!

 **Prologue**

To anyone else, the long cavernous hallways of Toranomon General Hospital in Minato, Tokyo, would have seemed a tad bit eerie at this late hour of the night. The fluorescent lighting that emitted a low buzzing sound was dimmed, though it still glistened off of the white linoleum floors. The white-bricked walls and the distinct sterile smell that wholly indicated you were treading through a hospital of sick people should have been enough to halt any, who did not need to be there, in their tracks.

That was not enough to deter the tiny, blonde pig-tailed four-year-old, though, as she skipped along the hallway, and filled the silence with the hum of a soft, lilting song that spilled from tiny bubblegum lips. It was difficult to tell, for any who might see her pass, if the song was to dispel the silence or if it was merely the soft inner musings of a carefree, innocent child, lost in her own world.

Nevertheless, the little blonde, with the sweet saucer-shaped blue eyes, made her way down the halls with a long-stemmed red rose clutched firmly in a tiny hand. She was on a mission, you see. To find her mother and her new baby brother that had somehow become lost when she'd become distracted by a rolling bed that she hadn't _really_ meant to follow but had been too curious not to.

She should have been afraid, she was lost after all, but the little girl had never experienced a moment of fear or uncertainty in her short life. It just never occurred to her to stop and tremble in terror like any other toddler might have done. The clicks and the beeps from the machines were so _fascinating_ , after all, and the half-domed security mirrors fixed to the walls made her giggle as they distorted her reflection when she passed.

She was following a yellow line painted along the floors when the soft sound of a sorrow-filled whimper spilled from the partially opened threshold of a darkened room into the hall and made her pause. Her little blue eyes widened curiously, and her tiny, pale-pink dress of ruffle and lace swished around stockinged legs as she carefully stepped towards the door.

Tiny hands clutched the cold steel frame as she leaned over the threshold and blinked into the darkness. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but when they did, a sweet smile spread across her cherub-cheeked face at the sight of an ebony-haired boy sitting atop cool, white starched sheets. Her smile melted into a frown, though, when she noted that he seemed so alone, so afraid, dressed in the mint green pyjamas given out by the hospital. Tiny legs tucked into an equally tiny chest, smalls arms wrapped around them as he shuddered and burrowed a bandaged head into his knees.

The little girl did not like that the little boy was alone and afraid. So, she slipped into the room, a flurry of blonde hair and pink lace, and skipped, unafraid, into the darkness before stopping beside his bed.

Her voice was like a wind chime, sweetly tinkling in the breeze. "Hello!" She chimed lightly, and the little boys head shot up. His startled cobalt blue eyes narrowed onto the strange sight of a little toddler, smiling up at him, and clutching at the mattress with tiny fingers.

He didn't say a word, little lips pressed into an angry, grim line as hardened eyes perused her face distrustfully. The little ball of sunshine was not deterred, though, and with a giggle, she scrambled up onto the bed beside him. He flinched back, surprised by the intrusion into his personal space.

The dimples in her cheeks were veritably adorable as she propped herself on tiny knees and grinned widely at him. "I am Tsukino Usagi. I am four years old," she exclaimed, and lifted four tiny fingers, just like her mama had shown her, to emphasize her age to her new friend.

Still, the boy said nothing and scrambled back away from her. This, more than anything, made little Usagi frown. The little boy was very afraid, it would seem, and she could not think of any other reason for his fear, except that it _must_ be because there were _monsters_ in here.

Her lips parted, and her eyes widened as she rapidly scanned the darkened crevices of the room. When she was satisfied that there was nothing, she turned back to the boy. _Perhaps he was afraid because he wasn't feeling well?_ Her eyes lit up, suddenly, with a brilliant idea.

She held her hand out, her eyes glinting merrily, and dropped the slightly crumpled red rose into his lap. The boy's eyes widened, and his little brow furrowed as he gingerly picked up the flower to carefully inspect it. Confusion etched into the pools of sorrow-filled eyes

The little blonde giggled again. "My mamma just had my baby brother, so I brought this for her so she could feel better. That was before I sawed you. I think you need it more than mamma since daddy brought her a whole bunch of them!" She exclaimed brightly, and clapped her hands excitedly, so proud that she could offer him a gift.

Her eyes were so luminous and round as they peered up at him through thick black lashes so expectantly, that the little boy's hardened expression softened beneath her gaze. "Thank you," he whispered and swallowed around the lump of emotion that formed in his throat. He was young too, after all, and Tsukino Usagi was the first person since he'd awoken here to melt his heart.

She smiled and impulsively leaned forward and clasped his bigger hand in her delicate, smaller ones. "What's your name?" She questioned, her tone still significantly lighter.

The boy visibly swallowed and averted his pain-filled eyes, though he let her continue to hold his hand. "I think it's Chiba Mamoru," he answered miserably, in a tone that Usagi didn't understand.

She tilted her head to the side, her eyes bright with curiosity, and tiny silken curls tumbling over her shoulder. "You only think? How come you only think that is your name?" She asked, unusually perceptive for a four-year-old.

His gaze met hers, and his eyes filled with tears. "Because. I don't remember. I don't remember anything," he murmured brokenly, softly, and haunted by the small wisps of something Usagi didn't understand.

Her face fell too, at the sight of the sorrow etched into Mamoru, who she had just decided was her new best friend. "I'm sorry you can't remember your name," she whispered comfortingly. "Where's your mommy and daddy?" She asked, and though her question was innocent, the little boys face crumpled with devastation.

He yanked his hand away then and pulled away from the little blonde that was worming her way into the hardened shell he'd only just started building around himself. "I don't know. I don't have a mommy and daddy anymore," he said wistfully, as he fixed his gaze onto something outside of the window that showcased a twinkling Minato skyline.

Usagi's face scrunched up in contemplation. "So, you are all alone?" She asked, her tone imbued with the sadness that was mirrored in his slumped posture.

He didn't respond, simply nodded curtly, expecting, hoping even, that the sweet little girl would leave now, and let him cry alone. Usagi, though, was a little ball of sunshine, and now she was filled with stubborn determination. Her little chest puffed up and she clumsily stumbled to her feet, her tiny shoes twisting up in the fabric of the sheets. She steadied herself quickly, and Mamoru peered up at her. His eyes filled with shock and confusion as she propped tiny little fists onto her hips.

Her smile was blinding in its brightness. "Well, you are not alone anymore, Chiba Mamoru!" She exclaimed proudly, prodding her chest with a tiny extended finger. "I am very strong! My mamma says that I am a fighter, and I will fight all the monsters that stealed all the things away from you!" She said, then giggled as she bounced on the tips of her toes, distracted by the thought of jumping on the bed. "You are not alone! You are my best friend!" She proclaimed mid-bounce, then offered him a little hand. "Jump with me! It's very fun!" She said breathlessly, her hair, and the rippling cotton fabric of her dress, fluttering with the movements.

Mamoru was confused for a moment, as the little six-year-old boy had just made a solemn vow never to let anyone get close enough to hurt him, not ever, right before the little blonde had snuck into his room. Luckily, Mamoru Chiba was still young, and very vulnerable to the sweet disposition of Usagi Tsukino.

Though his head still throbbed dully from the accident that had taken his memories and his only living family members, Mamoru Chiba accepted Usagi's invitation, and they bounced, played, then whispered about monsters and the sunlight that could kill them late into the night.

That was how a frantic, terror-filled Tsukino Kenji found his daughter, followed closely by an equally concerned nurse. The hospital had just been on lockdown for the past two hours as they'd searched for the little girl that had somehow slipped from her mother's hospital room.

It took a moment for Kenji's racing heart to calm; his raven-coloured hair ruffled from the number of times he'd raked a trembling hand through it in the past couple of hours. Usagi, blissfully unaware of the chaos and panic that she'd caused, smiled brightly and bounced off of the hospital bed with a giggle and a precarious flourish that he attributed solely to the bright, and trusting nature of his daughter.

He was still quaking with fear, so his tone was harsher than he meant it to be when he spoke. "Usa-chan," he growled, as he fell to his knees in front of her, and firmly grasped her shoulders. "What were you thinking? We've been worried sick!" he said, and his voice shook with the remnants of the raw emotions he'd felt when he couldn't find her.

Her bright smile faded, and her tiny brow crumpled into an indignant frown that made him inwardly smile. "Papa! I was fighting the monsters with my very best friend!" She blurted petulantly, her lips pursed haughtily as if it made all the sense in the world.

He inhaled deeply, and calmly pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to soothe his frayed nerves before responding to the little four-year-old that truly didn't know any better.

He was opening his mouth to respond, still favouring a lecture when a small, whispered voice interrupted him. "My apologies, Tsukino-san. I'm the one who kept her here for so long." Kenji's head snapped up, and his eyes met the steady, serious gaze of a little boy that he noted stepped closer to his daughter, who'd begun to smile brightly once again.

Usagi twirled out of his grip, practically bouncing as she reached for the boy and firmly grasped his hand in her own. The little boy's cheeks flushed warmly, and he smiled down at the little blonde with a softened gaze that was protective and far beyond what one would expect from someone so young. "See! I told you, papa! Mamo-chan is my very best friend, and I told him all about Shingo… can he come and meet Shingo, papa? And mommy too?" She questioned breathlessly, little pink cheeks flushed with excitement as she bounced onto the balls of her feet.

Kenji sighed, his brow still furrowed as he glanced up at the nurse that he noted for the first time stood in shocked silence, her fingers pressed to her lips in surprise. He turned back to his expectant daughter. "Usa, it's very late. I don't think-" he trailed off at the simultaneous looks of disappointment on both children's faces, though Usagi's was more irritated, and the boy seemed more resigned.

He exhaled slowly and grimaced at the idea of disappointing his daughter. "Usa-chan, I don't think your friend is well enough to leave his room," he murmured apologetically, and though he was trying to find a way to break it to her gently, he had noted the bandages wrapped around his head. "I'm sure his parents will worry about him if he leaves his room. Just like I was worried about you," he said firmly, his tone gently scolding now at the reminder of how his distracted, easily trusting daughter had slipped through his fingers, and promptly put them all into a frenzy.

Usagi vehemently shook her head, little golden ringlets whipping across her face with the movement. "No! Papa! He doesn't have a family," she stated innocently in a matter of fact manner that made him cringe. " _I'm_ his family now. Can he come? _Please?_ " She pleaded, her tone rising from a melodic octave to something a little more shrill.

Kenji frowned, carefully considering his next words when the nurse, Mayumi, interjected. "It would be alright, truly, if he went for a small visit," she said, and he was confused as she'd said it with an imploring tone that slightly mirrored his daughters.

Kenji sighed with reluctant acquiescence and adjusted his thinly-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose as he pulled himself to his feet. He nodded softly, and couldn't help but smile as Usagi squealed with delight and forcibly pulled the little boy by the wrist and out into the hallway.

Kenji and Mayumi followed the children into the hall. "Usa-chan, this way," he called, and Usagi giggled sweetly and pulled the boy ahead of them. She skipped, and Kenji noted that the boy did his best to keep up with her pace.

"I got losted in this place, Mamo-chan," he heard her whisper loudly, and Mamo smiled down at her indulgently. "But it's okay!" She exclaimed, "Cause I rescued you!"

Kenji shook his head in disbelief at his daughter's precarious nature as he followed closely behind with the nurse who watched the interaction with chestnut-brown eyes narrowed in disbelief.

Kenji frowned. "Who's the boy?" he asked quietly, and just out of the children's earshot.

Mayumi's gaze met his, and her eyes softened and filled with sadness. "His name is Chiba Mamoru, " she murmured gently. "He was admitted just over a week ago. He survived a horrific car accident that took the life of both of his parents," she breathed, and Kenji's face paled at this terrible piece of information.

His eyes narrowed as he quietly studied the tiny boy's profile. He could now see the sorrow that was etched into his posture. That, paired with the serious expression carved onto the contours of his face and the wise, sorrow-filled look in his eyes, tugged at Kenji's heartstrings. It made perfect sense to him that Usagi had naturally gravitated towards the boy. She was forever plucking up downtrodden creatures and showering them with her brightness.

He cleared his throat, "Does he have any other family?" he prodded, and his heart sank with the look of resigned dismay on the nurses face.

She shook her head and tucked a tawny-coloured strand of hair behind her ear nervously. "Unfortunately, he has no one else," she responded, and Kenji could sense that she was truly upset about the boy's fate. "This is the very first time he's spoken, much less _smile_. Your daughter must have worked some kind of magic on him. We weren't even sure he _could_ speak," she said, her gaze fixed with grateful awe on little Usagi that bounced on ahead of them.

Kenji smiled, proud of his little girl, before turning back to the nurse. "What will happen to Mamoru?" He asked, though his heart was clenched tightly in his chest. He already knew the answer.

The nurse shrugged sadly, "Foster care, Tsukino-san. That will be the only other option," she murmured and fixed her gaze firmly ahead of them.

Kenji sighed and raked a hand through his hair again. He'd never been the sentimental type. Not really. As a journalist, he'd been faced with many horror-filled stories that could have easily ripped away at him if he'd let it. So it was unusual that the fate of one orphaned little boy bothered him so much. Maybe it was because he'd just watched his wife give birth to his own son, or perhaps it was because he knew that the bright-eyed little blonde hurricane of sunshine that was his daughter would never give up on Mamoru now. Either way, he inwardly vowed to keep an eye out for little Mamoru Chiba that he had a feeling was going to become an important fixture in the Tsukino's lives.

oOo


	2. Chapter 1

**Hello! THANK YOU!** To all the reviews, the follows and the favoriters! You guys make me feel so happy! And super excited about this story!

I really want to highlight that I would not have been able to write this without my super awesome **bae-tas, Ninjette Twitch** and **Revy679** ... for the encouragement, the beautiful comments... and the super long nights where you just listened while I blurted out all my ideas! Couldn't have written anything without you?

 **Also,** I know that I JUST posted the prologue! But I really wanted to post chapter 1 very quickly afterwards, so you can all get a sense of where I am going with this story! Going forward, I will only post once a week!

I hope you like it! And if you do... please review?

 **Chapter 1**

Mamoru exhaled a breath of elated relief as he dropped the very last box of his things onto the dark-stained laminate floors of the genkan in his very first apartment. He stretched an uncomfortable kink in his neck and lightly swung the reinforced steel door shut. It closed with a satisfying and resounding click, and he couldn't wipe the smile off of his face as he jumped over the single step that led into the open floor living room space.

It was filled with boxes, all placed haphazardly. Though he noted with amusement that the boxes that _he'd_ brought up were more organized than the ones Usako had helped him with. His eyes scanned the living room for the blonde in question, and he found her underneath the red cherry-oak table that Usagi's parents had given him. She was on her stomach, an elbow perched in front of her, her delicate chin propped in her palm, while the other slowly turned the page of one of the various manga's that she liked to read.

His smile widened, and he rolled his eyes in loving exasperation. "Usako, what are you doing?" He asked with contrived reproachfulness that had her peering up at him, blinking innocently, even as an impish smile curled onto her lips.

With a puff of breath, she blew a tendril of hair out of her eyes. "What?" She asked, with a sweetly wholesome tone that made him sigh with resignation.

Tsukino Usagi was, for lack of a better word, his kryptonite. She was everything that he was not. Bright, bubbly, and, since the day she'd snuck into his hospital room when they were just kids, his best friend, which made her a wholly permanent fixture in every aspect of his life.

He hadn't stood a chance, really, when the dazzling whirlwind that was little Usako had exclaimed, very stubbornly, that she was going to protect him forever. He'd assumed, of course, that when she left the hospital with the most beautiful family that he'd ever seen that he was never going to see the sweet little blonde-haired toddler that had made him feel whole on one of the hardest days of his life, again.

He remembered watching her leave with her parents, and little Shingo tucked into a tiny car seat as he'd mournfully pressed his forehead against the cold glass pane window of his hospital room. He was sure he imagined her waving up at him from the parking lot. Just a tiny silky blonde dot bobbing up and down, but he'd waved anyway. Just in case. Because Tsukino Usagi was magical. She _had_ to be to make him forget that he couldn't remember and remember what it was like to feel loved.

That day was the last time he'd sobbed inconsolably, burrowing miserably underneath impersonal white sheets that smelled of disinfectant and hospital. He'd been convinced that he was never going to see that little girl again, and he needed to prepare himself to face a life without a single person who wanted him, and without a single memory of the people that had.

It was two days later that he was placed in the foster home that would become his personal hell. It was overcrowded with angry children and a sullen-faced older couple who padlocked the fridge door. He was brave, or at least he _thought_ he'd been, though he allowed himself to shed a tear or two late at night curled into one of the several bunk beds that lined the walls of a bedroom that was much too small to hold them all.

He might have gotten used to it, or he might have become a cruel hardened shell that couldn't have been reached as a means to protect himself if not for Usagi and her parents that arrived on their doorstep three days later.

The sullen-faced couple, who only wanted to be referred to as Sugimoto-san, had been reluctant to let him go outside and play with the little girl, whose eyes lit up with delight at the sight of him.

Mama-Ikuko was a force to be reckoned with, though, and after harshly whispered words, which he know knew were threats to expose the deplorable state of their home, he was welcomed with open arms to play with Usagi.

It took a while to get used to Usagi, who was beautiful, bright, _compassionate._ Her quirky personality, her flurried thoughts, the way she stumbled through everything she did, was the complete opposite to everything he dearly held onto. He liked to have things organized, placed in orderly little boxes that made sense. He would have been content to live that way, too. If Usako hadn't shown up, blown up his world, clawed her way into his heart and then pushed the broken little pieces back into place.

After that first play date, Usagi and her parents dutifully came to get him every other day. He'd learned later on that her parents had tried to pull him from that house, but the foster care system was complicated to wade through, and the Sugimoto's were very intent on keeping him firmly in place, whether out of spite, or because he was an easy way to get money from the government, he would never know. They hadn't wanted to displace him either, as they had no idea where he would have been sent, and as it stood, he'd been placed only two streets away from Usagi and her family.

It wasn't long before the two-day intervals were no longer _enough_ , and Usagi snuck out of her house to come and find him.

He was usually able to stop her before she got too close to the venomous people he lived with. There had been one incident though when she was seven, and he was nine, where she'd tired of waiting for him outside and had bounded into that house. Innocent, and blissfully unaware, _until that moment._

The look on her ashen-coloured face, the horror melded into the round blue pools of her eyes, would stay etched into his memory forever as he'd stepped into his bedroom, that he shared with three others, and found her standing there.

Her eyes had glistened with unshed tears, and her tiny fingers had been pressed to her lips, and he'd known, undoubtedly, that she would have seen the dilapidated kitchen, heard the shouting, and taken in the deplorable state of the little space that he was allowed to call his own tucked into the corner of that room.

He'd never let her come back to that house, and he noted that she and her parents came for him every day instead of every other day after that.

He wasn't sure what it was that made them work so well together, given that he was quiet, withdrawn, and wary and she was instinctively a brightly social creature that trusted too easily. He wasn't sure, really, when the roles of protector reversed. Except that he found himself extracting her from all kinds of situations that made him groan with exasperation even while he watched her with a blossoming tenderness that he just couldn't help.

There was the time that he'd met her in the park, on a Saturday afternoon, and his heart had involuntarily begun to race with fear when he hadn't immediately found her on the bench, or beneath the monkey bars where she liked to play in the sand.

His breath had hitched painfully in his throat, and he was mid-swivel to head over to her house to find her when he heard her voice. "Psst. Mamo-chan," her whisper was loud, overly exaggerated, and he twisted back around to see her blonde head poking out of the bushes in the nearby brambles of a hedge.

He frowned, his eyes filled with curiosity as he slowly made his way over to her where she stood. "Usa?" he asked, "What on Earth are you doing?"

He should have known better than to ask, because there, tucked in between the snarled branches was a brightly-grinning eight-year-old, her big gleaming blue eyes blinking up at him with all the innocence she could muster. It took a moment before he noted another pair of eyes glancing up at him, little beady black ones peering out from coarse brown fur clutched in the protective safety of her tiny arms.

"Look, Mamo-chan, its a cat. I think its leg is hurt," she'd said softly, her voice just above a whisper. "Will you help me fix her and bring her home?"

He'd choked on a strangled breath of disbelief, lifted his hands slowly and cautiously took a step towards her. "Usako," he breathed hoarsely. "That is _not_ a cat. It's a raccoon, and you need to put it down, _now._ " He didn't know much about wild animals, but he liked to read, and he remembered reading about wildlife. Raccoons, he remembered, were supposed to be extremely volatile creatures, even though this one seemed pretty docile at the moment.

Her eyes widened, along with her grin. "Really? Awe, she's so cute!" she exclaimed, and he exhaled a sigh of exasperated disbelief. "So, you're going to help me, right?"

He'd said no, vehemently, _twice._ But Usako only needed to bat those pretty lacy lashes, and he somehow found himself not only _helping_ her patch up the creature with a makeshift splint he'd learned to craft from a book, but also tucking it under his coat and smuggling it into her room.

Despite his adamant protests, she was intent on keeping the creature in her room, and though he'd said no, _many times,_ he'd still poured over books from the library about the animal so that he could help her feed it. It had taken a whole week, (and several deep gashes in his arm) before mama-Ikuko discovered the creature, dealt them both a severe tongue lashing, and made them release it back into the wild.

He'd secretly been relieved but hadn't been able to help the pang of remorseful sadness in his chest when he'd held Usagi as she cried when they released little Luna, as she'd named it, back into the park where she'd found her.

It was shortly after that that he discovered that Usagi, though tender-hearted, was practically fearless. There was one fear though, however irrational, that rendered her immobile, and paralyzed with terror. Usagi was deathly afraid of thunder. Which she'd only admitted to him after a storm one night, and he'd gone to her house to play and noted her lethargic movements and the big dark circles under her eyes.

He hadn't been able to understand her fear, though his heart clenched painfully in his chest at the thought of her shuddering, unable to move, alone in the midst of a storm.

"It's just thunder, Usako. It can't hurt you," he'd stated, in a matter of fact tone, in an attempt to reassure her.

She'd nodded with a sad smile, that he did not like to see _,_ splayed out onto her lips. "Of course. I know that, Mamo-chan. You're right," but her tone was resigned, and unconvincing, and he silently vowed at that moment that she would never need to fight out a storm all by herself again.

It was just past midnight the next time thunder boomed out loudly over the city, but he dutifully snuck out of the broken glass window in his room, and stubbornly braved the rain to go to her house. Usagi was on the second floor, and he only slipped off the diamond teak wood lattice trellis panel fixed onto the side of the house once as he scrambled up to her window.

His hands were slick with water, and he had to swipe the wet hair and rain from his eyes before he could open her unlocked window. He made a mental note to make sure and tell her to _lock_ her window later as he slipped into her room. She was curled up in the middle of her bed, swathed in yards of purple fabric etched with pink bunnies and crescent moons. She was whimpering and shivering with terror.

He bit the inside of his lip nervously as he tiptoed to her bed, suddenly feeling unsure that he'd made the right decision coming here. Would her parents be angry? His doubts melted away though when she caught sight of him by the bed, and after her initial gasp of shock, her face melted into a look of relief.

"Mamo-chan!" she exclaimed, and he smiled and crawled into the bed beside her.

It didn't matter that his clothes were damp from the rain. Usagi stopped shivering instantly, and they both fell into a dreamless sleep.

He snuck into her room every time there was a storm after that, and it didn't take long before her parents became aware of it. It had, of course, prompted a very awkward conversation with Usagi's dad in his car when he'd driven him home one afternoon.

He was stern-faced, his expression grim, and Mamoru had shuddered and visibly swallowed nervously under his scrutinizing stare. "Mamoru, you know that you are as important to me as any member of our family," he'd said, and Mamoru had nodded slowly, confused and uncertain about what was coming next. Though he liked to think he was a pretty brave twelve-year-old, he felt like he might crumble under Kenji's intense gaze. "You and Usagi have been inseparable since you were just little children, and I _do_ trust you implicitly, but I want to make _absolutely_ sure that you know that Usagi is to be absolutely respected at all times." It seemed like Kenji was having a difficult time saying the right words, and Mamoru had frowned, thoroughly confused until it dawned on him what Kenji meant.

His face whitened, and though he was only twelve, the other boys at school liked to talk. He recoiled painfully at Kenji's implication, and his heart began to race brutally fast in his chest. It was true. Sometimes he had to stop himself from staring at her lips too long, but Usagi was _everything_ to him. He would never disrespect her or the family that he'd come to love so much.

He cleared his throat nervously and shook his head. "I would never-" he stumbled over his words. "Usako is my best friend. I swear to you, I will always protect her," he whispered with a ferocity that was only the truth. Because he _would_ protect her, no matter what, even from himself.

His breath caught in his throat as Kenji studied his face quietly for one more moment, and then his expression softened with a wide grin. "Okay, Mamoru. Please be safe when you go back into that house, and you know that our door is always open for you," he said softly, and Mamoru had nodded with relief as he exited the car. "Oh! Mamoru, it's supposed to storm tomorrow night," he called before Mamoru could shut the door. "I'll leave the door unlocked, okay? Ikuko would be upset if anything happened to her lattice."

Usako never had to face a storm alone after that, and he never tried to hide anything from Usagi's parents again.

They only grew closer as they became older, and sometimes it felt like he knew Usagi better than he knew himself. They were entirely in sync, and he couldn't help the intensely protective emotions she elicited in him. The years that they attended the same school were his favourites, as not only did he get to see her after school, but he could catch a glimpse of her smiling face in the hallways, and he didn't have to eat alone at lunch, either.

It was true he was brooding, and he'd been dubbed as intimidating and unapproachable, but that hardened shell melted away the minute he was with her. Eventually, he excelled in school, as he developed a passion for the academic world and discovered his niche would most definitely be in the medical field where he'd decided that he was going to specialize specifically in cases of brain trauma and memory loss. He was steered into going to Moto Azabu high school, which was a private preparatory day school for boys that would ultimately help him reach his goals, though it did, unfortunately, separate him from Usagi.

It hadn't been ideal, but he spent every day with her after school at the arcade and ate dinner with her family most nights anyway.

Things had settled wonderfully, and he wouldn't have changed a thing, except for the escalating nightmare that had become the severely neglectful Sugimoto foster home. He was no longer the terrified, shivering six-year-old that had been unceremoniously dumped onto their doorstep years ago. He was sixteen now, and he was becoming increasingly unwilling to let the constant abuse that was commonplace in that home continue.

He'd been mostly safe for years now, as he'd always spent most of his time with the Tsukino's. The Sugimoto's had been content with that as long as they continued to receive the monthly grant of yen that came from 'taking care' of him.

He'd always been relatively compliant, and he knew that it was unusual to stay placed in a home _this long_. He was terrified to make waves and be sent somewhere else, like most of the other wayward boys that came through here, as it could have potentially taken him far away from Usagi and his family. The Sugimoto's were well aware of that, and they reached an unspoken agreement. He stayed out of their way, did not poke his nose into their business, and they mostly left him alone to his schoolwork and the Tsukino's.

However, he'd reached a breaking point to the tentative agreement that he had with the Sugimoto's when they'd accepted a new foster kid. He was a little boy, blue-eyed and terrified with a look in his eyes that reminded him of what it had been like when he'd first arrived. The poor kid hadn't known any better, and he'd foolishly tried to sneak a pack of crackers from the kitchen after hours.

Sugimoto-san had been furious, overly so, with rage burning hotly in his steely grey eyes as he'd clasped the shivering boy's wrist in one hand, and lifted his fist to strike him with the other. Mamoru had stopped him that time, and as a result, he'd sported several purple bruises on his face and around his neck afterwards. He was prepared to let it go. There was only one year left, after all. But Usagi, his self-proclaimed protector, had turned into a raging spitfire.

He'd confessed to Ikuko and Kenji, who adamantly refused to let him stay there a moment longer. They'd brokered a deal that had him staying safely in the Tsukino residence. A year later, the sizeable inheritance that his parents had left for him had finally been relinquished. With the help of Usako's parents, it enabled him the ability to secure this apartment.

Which Usagi had 'helped' moved him into. Though, really, she'd carried up one box then tucked herself underneath the table to read manga instead.

Mamoru rolled his eyes, but couldn't help a smile as the hue of playfully innocent sapphire-blue orbs met his gaze. "You were supposed to help me, Usako," he said, though his tone was light and teasing.

Her mischievous half-smile turned into a full-blown grin, and she leaned forward and propelled herself onto her hands and knees before carefully crawling out from beneath the table. In the blink of an eye, and in a swift quick movement, she hopped to her feet and skipped over to the _one_ box that she'd managed to bring upstairs. He noted then, with exasperated amusement, that the box wasn't even his.

"Mamo-chan, I _did_ help you!" she exclaimed with a giggle that made his heart beat faster, as she pulled out a green canvas bag. "I brought the most important things!" she said, though her tone was not sincere and there was a joking twinkle in her eyes.

He raised an eyebrow questioningly, and wordlessly held out his hand for the bag. Usagi happily handed it to him, and her slender fingers grazed across his hand as he clasped the handle and carefully peered inside.

He rummaged through its contents and shook his head with a tender smile. His eyes met hers again with an amused smirk. "So the most important thing for _my_ apartment, is manga, a copy of practical magic and a pair of your pyjamas?" he asked, as he attempted to keep his tone serious, though it broke slightly with a laugh.

She tipped her head back, long silky tresses falling over her shoulders and giggled loudly. " _Obviously,_ Mamo-chan!" She exclaimed and propped a hand on her hip. "All you have here are boring books. What else am I supposed to do when you're studying?" she questioned as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He raised an eyebrow. "You could always study too, you know," he said, though he couldn't help but chuckle as she adorably scrunched her nose up and stuck her tongue out playfully.

She opened her mouth to retort when the telltale beeping of her phone trilled loudly through the room. She twisted her body around, stumbled slightly, and leaned into the box to pull out the gaudily pink bedazzled device that was her phone. "Oh, shoot," she murmured as her eyes narrowed onto the screen. Mamoru noted that she bit her bottom lip in between her teeth as she read the text message, and he swallowed and quickly averted his gaze. "I totally forgot that I promised I would meet Mako-chan at two," she said, her tone and the look in her eyes apologetic as she hastily pushed her phone into the back pocket of her blue denim, tightly-fitting jeans.

She quickly skipped the two steps to close the gap between them and coiled her warm, slender arms around his waist and tucked her head beneath his chin. The silky locks of her hair tickled his face as he breathed in her scent and wrapped his arms firmly around her.

"I am _so_ proud of you, Mamo-chan," she whispered softly, and he gulped around the lump of emotion in his throat as he firmly tightened his hold on her. With a final squeeze, she twirled out of his embrace and only tripped twice over the boxes as she made her way to the door.

She quickly grasped the handle, and the door squeaked slightly as she hastily pulled it open. She was halfway over the threshold when she peered over her shoulder with a bright, dazzling smile. "By the way, don't eat the ice cream in the freezer, Mamo-chan. That's for movie night!" she exclaimed. Then with a wink and an unintentional swish of her shapely hips, she was gone.

He couldn't wipe the smile off of his face after she'd left, because Usako left a very distinct impression in every room she visited. It made his throat constrict painfully and his heart hammer in the cavity of his chest.

His smile faded and melted into a grimace instead. This was increasingly becoming a problem that he still wasn't sure what to do about. Though he was sure he'd felt this way for years, it was only recently that he'd inwardly accepted the truth. He was one hundred percent, unequivocally, irrevocably, head over heels in love with his best friend. He sighed and raked a frustrated hand through his hair. He'd run the scenario over in his mind several times, and the only thing that he knew for sure, was that he had _no_ idea what he was going to do about it.

oOo


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Ahhhhh! WOW! The response to this story is overwhelmingly positive, and it means the whole entire world to me! I know I should wait to post this - I just posted two chapters after all- but I'm so excited! Thank you all for the lovely reviews, the follows, and the favourites! I promise that I am going to go through each review one by one to reply to each of you individually ! BUT THANK YOU!

As always, the biggest shout out to my favourite Moonie girls, and **bae-tas** in the whole world! LOVE YOU GUYS! **Ninjette Twitch** and **Revy679!**

 **Please read and Review!**

 **Chapter 2**

There were three sounds that she loved to hear more than anything in this world. In no particular order, she loved the sound of the buzzing games at the Crown Arcade, Mamoru's deep baritone laugh, and the shrill sound of the school bell indicating the _end_ of another long, mundane, school day.

Luckily, the bell's welcoming ring pierced through the classroom and interrupted Sensei Haruna mid-sentence. Usagi sighed with relief, imminently grateful that she'd reached the end of another day of classes and pop quizzes that she probably should have felt more confident about.

She lazily stretched slender arms above her head, and her heart skipped a beat excitedly at the thought that she'd be able to hear her other two favourite sounds in approximately fifteen minutes. Or, you know, as long as it took her to get from here to the arcade without tripping or falling victim to some kind of interesting distraction. She dropped her hands and grimaced at the thought. Truthfully, she _did_ get distracted a lot, which would probably explain why she hated school so much. There was so much more that she would rather be doing than sitting in a classroom.

Her grimace melted into a tender smile as she pictured Mamoru's look of exasperation every time he scolded her about daydreaming, in that chiding _I'm-trying-to-be-serious_ voice, that always made her laugh. She chuckled out loud, and shook her head, then stopped with a sharp intake of breath and a muttered curse as it occurred to her. He was right, of course, as evident by the fact that the bell had rung about five minutes ago and she'd remained seated, like an idiot, _daydreaming_.

She promptly pressed her palms onto the top of her scuffed pupil's desk and used them to push herself up into a standing position. She'd done it too quickly _of course_ , and she winced as her knee painfully knocked the edge of the steel corner, and her wooden chair skidded backwards and hit the floor with a resounding smash that was _sure_ to bring attention to her clumsiness.

The classroom had mostly emptied of students, though, and those that remained only shook their heads, thoroughly amused by her clumsy antics. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks as she knelt down with a sheepish grin on her face, and gingerly pulled the chair back into an upright position.

"Are you breaking things again, Usagi-chan?"

The question had been posed in a lovingly amused tone by her friend, Osaka Naru. Usagi chuckled with embarrassment as she twisted around to face the brunette who had undoubtedly patiently waited for her with a delighted smile on her delicate features.

Usagi shrugged and returned her smile with a bright one of her own. "Ah, well. You know me!" she chimed with an elated giggle. "There's a reason they call me hurricane-Usagi, Naru-chan!" She exclaimed as she leaned down to pick up her black-leathered book bag and safely secure the strap onto her shoulder.

Naru chuckled and shook her head as she turned to leave the emptied classroom. "Nobody calls you that, Usagi-chan," she said brightly, and Usagi had to skip quickly to catch up. "Is it alright if Umino comes along to the arcade with us as well?" she asked, glancing sideways at the odangoed, bubbly blonde beside her with an indulgent smile.

Usagi nodded, her cheeks red with excitement at the prospect of being joined by another friend. She'd always considered herself pretty social. She liked talking to people, and though sometimes she might find herself talking _too much_ , as a result, she'd amassed a fairly large-sized group of friends.

Though she enjoyed the company of every single one of them, there was only one friend that she considered her v _ery best friend._ Dark-haired, intelligent, and slightly brooding, Mamoru Chiba held a special place in her heart above all of the others.

They made their way down the hallway towards the exit, and Usagi smiled and waved her goodbyes to several school acquaintances as thoughts of her ebony-haired friend swirled at the back of her mind. She missed his silly stoic expressions now that he'd moved into his own apartment and she didn't get to see him in the morning before they went to school anymore.

She hated that they went to different schools now, too. She was very proud of him for actually enjoying school and excelling academically. Especially enough to be accepted into a _private_ high school. But truth be told, she missed seeing him in the hallways. That, and she was sure he'd forget to eat if it wasn't for her and her lunches. It broke her heart when she recalled the days he'd come to school with nothing to eat when he'd lived with that awful family. Luckily, between her and her mother, she _always_ made sure that Mamoru had lunch, but now that he was in a different school, she had no idea if he was eating.

The thought disheartened her, but she perked up considerably as she made her way outside with Naru to join Umino and their friend Makoto. _She was going to see him now, anyway_. She planned to order extra fries, just to make _sure_ that he ate something today, as she was sure he'd forgotten.

She was practically skipping, eager to arrive with her friends, because she knew he was sitting in his usual seat, waiting for her, just like he did every day. Hopefully with a strawberry milkshake for her, too!

They were halfway to the arcade, and Usagi was thoroughly amused by Makoto, who had taken it upon herself to gently tease Naru and Umino. Their faces had turned a lovely shade of red, and Usagi laughed when they were interrupted by another group of friends that she recognized in passing, from school, though she couldn't quite recall all of their names.

A small flare of irritation momentarily coursed through her as they firmly planted themselves in her path, and she frowned at the intrusion. She was excited to get to the arcade, and the sweltering sun beating down on them was relentless.

One of the boys, the one whose name she thankfully _did_ remember, stepped forward. Ginga Seijuro towered above her, and she needed to crane her neck to peer up into his sharply angled features and the almond-shaped eyes that were filled with amusement as he stared down at her. "Usagi-san, it's nice to see you again!" he said with a laugh and half-smirk.

She supposed with his Romanesque features, he could be considered handsome in his own right. Though she didn't really think of those kinds of things, and if she did, she knew that she'd prefer darker hair. He _was_ tall, which she did find attractive, but not _that_ tall. She preferred boys who stood perhaps only a foot or so taller than her. Like Mamoru. Now, _Mamoru_ was the _perfect_ height.

Still, she plastered a smile onto her face. "It's very nice to see you again," she lied, as she could not for the life of her remember the last time she'd seen him.

He smiled, leaned forward, and lightly grazed her arm with his hand. "Would you like to join me and my friends? We're going to the mall. I'd love for you to come along, Usagi-san," he said, and she was probably imagining it, but it felt like he was _really_ close.

Either way, she stepped back, uncomfortable with the way his warm breath hit her face, and offered him an apologetic smile. "I'm very sorry, Ginga-san," she began, opting to address him formally. "I'm on my way to the arcade. I couldn't just leave my friends behind," she said and tilted her head to the side to stare longingly around him. She really just wanted to get to the arcade.

She did feel a bit guilty at the crestfallen look on his face. "Oh, well, your friends can come as well?" He said, and Usagi cringed at the hopeful tone in his voice. What was the wrong with him, anyway? She barely knew him, and by the looks of the small following that was patiently waiting, he had more than enough friends to keep him company at the mall.

She shook her head, and forcibly held back an exasperated sigh. "No, I'm sorry, Ginga-san. My friend is already there, waiting for me," she said, and her tone was a bit firmer this time, and she hoped that it properly conveyed that she wanted to _go._

He frowned, and stepped towards her again, "Surely you can call-"

The russet-haired boy was promptly interrupted by Makoto, that hooked her arm through Usagi's and pulled her away. "So sorry, Ginga-san, but we _really_ need to go," she said, her tone sickeningly sweet, with an overly friendly wave, as she tugged Usagi swiftly around him.

When they'd made it out of Seijoru's line of sight, Usagi offered Makoto a grateful smile. The brunette grinned in return, and reassuringly squeezed her arm. Makoto was much taller than her, which meant that her strides were much longer, and Usagi needed to _really_ concentrate to avoid tripping over her feet, but she still didn't miss the strange, knowing looks her friends exchanged.

"Well that was certainly interesting," Makoto said from beside her, a smirk on her lips.

Usagi frowned in confusion at the murmured comment that was clearly laced with some kind of double meaning. _What was interesting?_

"Guess he doesn't know yet," Naru said, and Usagi twisted her head to the side to fix her gaze on Naru, who'd quickened her pace to walk beside her. The brunette leaned forward a bit to catch Makoto's gaze. "Well, he is relatively new at school. So, he wouldn't have heard," she continued and shrugged nonchalantly.

Makoto nodded, with another _knowing_ look glinting behind the green hues of her eyes. Usagi's frown deepened, and she gritted her teeth in irritation. _What were they going on about?_ Their remarks were annoyingly cryptic, and furthermore, they were speaking to each other as if she wasn't sandwiched between the both of them.

Usagi sighed loudly, and purposefully, "What are you two going on about? I'm right here, you know!" She snapped, her tone laced with irritated exasperation.

Her friends didn't respond, but they did share another infuriatingly knowing look that was really beginning to annoy her. " _Guys?"_ she questioned, her tone rising to a shrill octave that made her inwardly cringe.

Surprisingly it was Umino, who'd been trailing behind, that interjected as he strode in front of them, and twisted his short body around to walk backwards. "Well, Usagi-chan, coming from a _boy's_ perspective, that hears things, boys are usually afraid to approach you," he said, a knowing glint in his gaze as he stared at her from behind thick round glasses that slightly magnified his eyes.

Usagi's frown deepened into a scowl. It was true that most of her friends consisted of girls, but wasn't that the case for them as well? Judging by the looks they were all exchanging, she was going to guess that was a big resounding _no._ It was apparently _not_ a normal thing to rarely be approached by someone of the opposite sex.

She pursed her lips, and averted her gaze, feeling a little bit hurt now. _What was that supposed to mean anyway?_ "What are you even talking about, Umino-san?" She snapped, swallowing around the ball of emotion that bubbled up involuntarily into her throat. It was not like her to feel insecure.

The others must have noticed her stricken expression because they offered her apologetic looks tinged with sympathy. "Usagi-chan, it has nothing to do with you!" Makoto exclaimed reassuringly, as she, _thankfully,_ slowed her pace until she came to a complete stop.

"Oh!" Umino exclaimed, his big eyes round with the realization that she'd attributed his thoughtless comment to herself. "Of course it has nothing to do with you! Trust me, they _want_ to approach you," Umino reassured, his chin tilted upwards with that infuriatingly suggestive look on his face.

Naru shifted her weight from one foot to the other beside her, and her facial expression was filled with uncertainty as she carefully considered her next words. Usagi pressed tightly clenched fists into the billowing fabric of her pleated skirt. Their cryptic comments and expressions were really starting to get on her nerves. "Usagi-chan, they're afraid of Mamoru-san," Naru said, slowly, carefully, with a furtive look to study her friend's reaction to her confession.

Usagi tensed, and her eyes widened in confusion. Of all of the things that Naru could have said - that she was unattractive, too clumsy, a bit irritating- _that_ was the very last thing she expected her to say. Who could possibly be afraid of _Mamoru?_

She shook her head, her blonde pigtails twisting around her body, as she pulled her arm out of Makoto's and propped her hands on her hips. "What are you guys talking about?" She demanded, "Mamo-chan is the _nicest_ guy on the whole entire planet. Who could be afraid of him?" She stated, in a matter of fact, slightly defensive, tone. Truthfully, it made her angry to hear anyone speak of Mamoru that way.

Makoto chuckled softly, as Naru and Umino exchanged another smirk, and their eyes glinted brightly with amusement. Usagi couldn't help the indignant huff of disbelief. "That _can't_ be it!" She quipped in response to the looks on their faces. _There was no way!_

Umino snorted through a bark of laughter. "What about that time he threw Jimu over the fence?" He questioned and crossed his arms with a grin widening on his face.

The statement did deflate Usagi's righteous indignation _a little bit_. Her face reddened and her scowl melted into a frown. It was true. Mamoru _had_ thrown Jimu over the fence… but it was completely justified! "Jimu deserved that! He kept tripping me on purpose, then calling me a klutz so that everyone would laugh at me!" Her face began to burn at the awful memory of the many times that boy had humiliated her. "Then he purposefully pushed me down, hard, in Gym class, and I twisted my ankle!" She exclaimed, waving her hands animatedly as she spoke.

That was certainly _not_ Mamoru's fault. She hadn't even wanted to tell him, convinced that she could handle the bully on her own. It wasn't _his_ fault that he'd heard the rumours whispered in the hallways. Mamoru was instinctively protective! It was one of his very best qualities.

Makoto chuckled again as she shook her head, her glossy chestnut brown ponytail fluttering behind her with the movement. "Well, there was that time that Mamoru-san threatened Asahi-kun," she said, amused laughter laced into the tone of her voice. "Apparently, he scared him so badly, that Asahi _switched_ schools!"

This time Usagi scoffed. Tanaka Asahi was a _slimeball_ , pure and simple. Mamoru had done the female population of their middle school a _favour_ by threatening that jerk. "You can hardly use that as an example, Mako-chan! He was disgusting towards _all_ of the girls. With his salacious remarks and the rumours he'd start about girls that wouldn't…." her face burned hotly as she choked on the words.

Makoto's grin only widened, and she tilted her head to the side. "That's true, Usagi-chan, but Asahi had been doing things like that for a long time. Mamoru-san only began to care when it was happening to _you_ ," she said expectantly as if she was trying to convey something that Usagi just wasn't getting.

Umino chortled, then gasped with a new memory. "Oh! Oh! Remember when Mamoru-"

Usagi had heard enough, they clearly didn't understand her friend. "That's enough! There is no reason anyone should be afraid to talk to me. Mamo-chan doesn't even go to our school anymore!" She said loudly, her tone harsh and firm, as she, god help her, _actually_ stomped her foot in frustration.

Which, of course, only elicited an array of laughter from her so-called friends. "I don't think that matters, Usagi-chan," Makoto said, and Usagi shook her head and, in a flurry of blonde hair and the fabric of the blue pleated skirt of her school uniform, she swept past them.

They simply didn't understand the kind, good, protective qualities that Mamoru possessed. They were wrong. He wouldn't do all of those things _just_ for her _._

The three of them quickly caught up to her, and luckily, the topic of conversation switched to something else. She barely heard the rest of what they had to say, though, because she couldn't for the life of her figure out why the thought of Mamoru protecting just _any_ girl bothered her so much.

oOo

Her disconcerting conversation with the others was almost completely forgotten when she stepped through the Arcade doors and was immediately greeted by the welcoming 'whoosh' of cold air-conditioned air, the tinkling sound of the bell fixed above the door, and the low buzz of conversation intermingled with the pops, dings and clicks of the Arcade games.

She literally felt the tension uncoil from the tightened muscles in her shoulders as the corners of her lips lifted into a relieved grin. The Arcade was truly one of her favourite places. It was perfect, really. Mamo-chan could sit at the counter and drink his gross coffee, studying for school, and she got to play all the Arcade games! It was totally a win-win situation.

The first time they'd discovered the Crown Arcade was when she was ten and he was twelve, and the park no longer held the appeal it once had. She'd originally lured Mamo-chan in here with false promises of mutual counter studying. That had never come to pass, of course, but they'd kept coming nevertheless.

Though he would never admit it, she was pretty sure he'd come to enjoy it, too. Especially since Furuhata Motoki had started working here part-time. Which, come to think of it, was the only other person she'd seen Mamo-chan willingly interact with.

She frowned at the thought, thoroughly confused by it, when her gaze finally fell onto the familiar ebony-haired head in question. His back was turned towards the door, and he sat in his usual seat, undoubtedly hunched over one of his super boring chemistry books,

Her elated grin was firmly back in place as the others left to play their usual games and she skipped across the room, dodged a few overly eager teenagers, and closed the distance between them. Her smile faded though, her nose scrunching up into a grimace as her eyes narrowed onto what he was wearing. _She was sure she'd thrown that abomination out!_

With an exasperated sigh and a shake of her head, she flopped down into the seat beside him. She stumbled just a little, and his hand immediately shot out and clasped her waist to steady her.

She waved to Motoki, who was just coming from the kitchen when Mamoru swivelled towards her, his usual smile firmly in place, as he snapped his book shut. _Chemistry._ Just as she'd suspected. "How was school, Usako?" His tone was gentle, kind, and she really didn't understand what the others were even talking about.

She didn't respond, simply raised her eyebrows, and casually reached out for the strawberry milkshake that was waiting for her. She loudly took a sip from the straw, the glass cold against her palm as she stared down at his ugly, green jacket pointedly.

He frowned at her non-responsiveness and followed her gaze to the jacket in question. His lips curled into an amused grin, as he swivelled back around to the counter and reopened his book. "I like this jacket, Usako," he said with a chuckle, amusement twinkling in the pools of cobalt blue eyes as he gave her a sideways glance. "Despite your attempts to get rid of it," he said, smirked, and casually lifted the white ceramic coffee cup to his lips to take a sip.

She huffed, lifted her arms in exasperation, and rolled her eyes skyward as if praying for patience. "I did you a favour when I threw that _thing_ out! How did you even find it!" She exclaimed, thoroughly exacerbated, though she couldn't help but feel _slightly_ amused.

He rolled his eyes and turned the page in his book. "Because you didn't throw it in the trash, Usako," he began, and she huffed. "You probably _meant_ to, but you must have become distracted because I found it on the kitchen counter," he said, a self-satisfying smirk still splayed out on his lips.

She opened her mouth, fully prepared to protest, when the memory of _actually_ throwing out the jacket popped into her head. She snapped her mouth shut, as her cheeks reddened, and a sullen scowl washed over her face. She'd gotten distracted by her mother's freshly baked castella cakes.

With her silence, a clear indication that she knew she was wrong, Mamoru glanced up with expectantly raised eyebrows.

It was the satisfying smirk that made her backpedal, though. "Why do you even like that thing?" She exclaimed, and leaned forward with narrowed eyes, taking a sip from her strawberry milkshake, this time from the rim of the cup as the whipped cream kept clogging up her straw.

His smirk turned into a genuine smile. "You bought it for me, Usako," he replied, simply, sincerely. There _was no way!_

She gasped indignantly and slapped her palm onto the counter with a vehement shake of her head. "I _did not!_ " She practically shouted, thoroughly insulted.

He tipped his head back and had the audacity to laugh. "Yes, you did, Usa," he said lightly. "Remember? You were eight, and you'd just received your first allowance, and we stopped at that yard sale?" He prodded, and Usagi's brow furrowed. She _sort of_ recalled something like that. "You could have chosen between the oversized green jacket for me, or the slightly bleached Hello Kitty bag," he said, and her frown turned into a defeated glower.

He was right. She _did_ remember that. She didn't

 _remember_ the jacket being _that_ ugly, though. She'd seen the jacket several times over the years, and she'd hummed and hawed about its sheer ugliness _every single time,_ definitely attempted to toss it on several occasions. He'd never once mentioned, or reminded her, that she was the reason for the atrocity!

She shook her head in disbelief. "I should have picked the bag," she muttered, though her tone was lightly spoken with resignation.

He smiled, leaned over, pulled a napkin off of the counter and handed it to her. "As I said, Usako," he quipped brightly. "I _like_ this jacket," he chuckled, and ruffled her hair. "And you have whipped cream on your lip." With that, he turned back to his book, with a small half-smile _still_ on his face.

She threw her hands up in defeat, swiped the napkin across her lips, and bounced off the stool. Motoki, who'd been silently watching their interaction while drying glasses, was _also_ smirking.

She shook her head in exasperation at the both of them. "Maybe _you_ can talk some sense into him, Motoki!" She said, then playfully stuck her tongue out at Mamo-chan who was doing his best to ignore her. Though, she could _tell_ he was trying not to laugh.

"Okay, Mamo-baka," she teased with an unbidden giggle. "I'll be back when I beat my top score at Sailor V!" She announced brightly, then twisted around and bounced into the fray of Arcade players to join Naru and Makoto who were already competing with each other.

With her face turned, she felt it was safe to allow herself to smile warmly. It was kind of sweet that he'd kept that jacket, actually. Though, she wished she could go back in time and scold the eight-year-old version of herself for her horrible taste in clothes.

Regardless, she'd just decided that, even though it was ugly, she wouldn't give him a hard time about the jacket again.

oOo

She let out a loud, exaggerated huff as the front door slammed behind her and she gingerly stepped into the genkan. "I'm home!" Usagi cried out loudly as she unceremoniously tossed her book bag, where it just narrowly missed the oak post of the stairwell that she'd meant to loop it over. She hastily yanked off her black mary-jane shoes and slipped on the fuzzy pink bunny slippers that she pulled from a wicker basket near the door.

She was like a bounding tornado of silky hair and billowing fabric that skipped into the living room where her dad was leaned back comfortably in their brown leather recliner, reading a newspaper. (Always the journalist at heart, he _refused_ to use the tablet they'd bought him for his birthday) Shingo sat cross-legged on the floral patterned sofa, firmly entrenched in the Nintendo switch he'd conned their mother into buying for him.

Without even looking up from the screen, and still furiously mashing the buttons, Shingo smirked. "Why do you insist on screaming like that? Nobody _cares_ that you're home," the annoying little twerp muttered.

Usagi graced him with a hot glare, which was pointless, because he didn't look up to actually _see_ it. But it made her feel better, and she smiled as she skipped to her dad's side, lovingly popping down to kiss his forehead. "Hi, Papa!" she chimed brightly, then twisted around, _a little ungracefully,_ and bounded onto the other side of the sofa, curling her long, bare legs beneath her, and smoothing out the pleated skirt on her lap.

There was the distinct sound of shuffling paper as Kenji peered over his glasses to give his daughter a tender smile. "Hello, Usa-chan, welcome home," he greeted lovingly, and she preened warmly under his gaze.

"Oh! Usagi! I'm glad you're home, darling," lavender-haired Ikuko exclaimed sweetly as she stepped into the living room, clad in a white apron with a spatula in hand. Usagi's mouth was already watering as the scent of dinner wafted in from the kitchen.

Her mother's smile faded into a concerned frown as she quickly scanned the room with her gaze. "Oh. No Mamoru tonight?" she questioned, the inflection in her tone deflated with disappointment.

Usagi smiled apologetically and shook her head. "No. Sorry, Mama," she said and shrugged nonchalantly. "He apparently has this super boring school assignment that he needs to get done," she chimed and grimaced at the thought. Mamo-chan was really good at school… like _really_ good. So the assignment must truly be urgent if he was skipping out on dinner.

"You know, Usa-chan. It wouldn't hurt if you took a page out of Mamoru's book," Kenji interjected, his voice slightly muffled from behind his newspaper. Usagi's brow furrowed with annoyed dismay. "That boy has a solid head on his shoulders. I'm very proud of him," he murmured, almost absentmindedly as he licked the tip of his finger, and used it to turn to the next page of his paper.

Ikuko laughed brightly, and Usagi's gaze snapped over to her. "Oh! I'm so proud of him! That school he's gone to is _very_ prestigious! Do you know what the acceptance rate to the University of Tokyo is for Moto Azabu high school graduates? 86%!" Ikuko exclaimed proudly, as she animatedly waved her spatula in the air. "I picked up a couple of pamphlets about their campus at the dentist's office on Tuesday," she said proudly, a wide grin on her face. "Do you know where he's applied to yet, Usagi?"

The question caught her off guard, and she frowned thoughtfully. There weren't any secrets between her and Mamoru. They told each other everything. He was her greatest confidante, and the first person she went to with anything that might be bothering her. So why hadn't he mentioned applying anywhere to her yet?

A flash of guilt blossomed in the pit of her stomach, and she inwardly grimaced. _She should have thought to ask._ He was a senior, after all, and he'd be attending a University next year.

The idea that Mamo-chan _wouldn't_ be going to University was laughable, and the guilt intensified as she couldn't help the secret part of her that was dreading the change. Though, as a University student, maybe she could convince him to bring her to all the fun parties? Plus, UT campus wasn't that far... Keio was even closer! So it wasn't like things needed to change _that_ much!

The thought cheered her up considerably, and she smiled up at her mother. "I'm not sure, Mama. I'll have to make sure to ask him," she reassured brightly.

Ikuko nodded, satisfied with her response. "Good, you make sure to tell him to _eat._ I worry about him on his own," she said as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, a look of concern etched into her face. "You know how he is. He'll forget," she said worriedly and propped her hand onto her hip as her eyes fixed onto a spot on the wall as she undoubtedly became lost in her thoughts. Probably trying to come up with a way to get Mamoru some dinner.

Usagi nodded solemnly, in agreement with Ikuko. "Don't worry, Mama! I made sure he ate before we left the Arcade!" She said and tilted her head up, with a proud smile.

Ikuko smiled, "Oh! That's wonderful! Please make sure he comes to dinner tomorrow, though. Won't you, darling?" She requested sweetly, then twisted around to return to the kitchen.

Usagi nodded her assent, content because Mamoru was a part of their family. Her parents loved him as much as they loved her and - she glanced sideways at her brother that was currently picking at something on his face - _maybe_ Shingo.

Her mama always made sure he ate and getting him pamphlets was so … she frowned with a sudden realization. "Hey Mama!" she shouted loudly toward the kitchen. She didn't wait for her mother to acknowledge her before continuing. "How come you didn't get me University pamphlets?"

Her only response was Shingo, who burst out into an annoying bout of laughter. "You? Come on, Usagi!" he guffawed loudly, which deepened her scowl. "There is _no_ way that _you_ are going to University! Man…" he choked on his laughter. _Unfortunately, it didn't choke him to death._ "Why does Mamoru even hang out with you? You're so brainless!"

Usagi gasped, her face red with indignant rage. " _Shut up_ , SHINGO!" She spat through gritted teeth, then leaned back, and kicked out her leg so that her foot collided directly with his hip.

She was pleased to see that she'd effectively silenced the little twerp's laughter, as he inhaled sharply, flinched, and hissed painfully through his teeth. "Dad! Usagi just kicked me!" he snitched, and she promptly, _sort of_ childishly stuck her tongue out at him.

Stupid Shingo. He didn't know _what_ he was talking about. Mamoru loved her. They were best friends after all.

oOo

It was only later as Usagi brushed her teeth, and carefully studied her reflection in the mirror that she went over the conversation she'd had with her friends on the way to the Arcade. Her eyes were narrowed as she scrutinized the contours of her face, the childish pink pyjamas, and the sparkly bow hair ties that firmly held her pig-tails in place.

She'd never really given much thought to boys like Seijuro or… well anyone else, for that matter. She'd always been relatively content exactly with the way things were. But Makoto and Naru's words and suggestive expressions definitely made her pause. _Should_ she be thinking about boys, the way that the other girls seemed to be?

She leaned over the sink and spat out the remnants of the mint toothpaste, then turned on the tap and gingerly filled a glass with water to rinse out her mouth. Her friend Minako had dated several boys already. It was strange, but whenever she thought of dating, or who she might like to date, she only ever thought of Mamoru.

Usagi frowned, padded out of the bathroom and flicked off the light as she went. It was probably because Mamoru was her favourite person in the world. He made her feel safe.

She yawned as she crawled into her bed, and burrowed beneath her comforter, settling comfortably onto her pillow. It was raining outside and the gentle pitter-patter sounds it made as it hit the roof and her window were quickly beginning to lull her to sleep. Maybe it was about time that she at least _tried_ to date a boy. Though, not Seijoru. That particular boy made her uncomfortable.

She'd just fallen asleep, her breathing even and steady, lacy black lashes fanning the tops of her cheeks when a loud booming sound tore her from her slumber. Her eyes flew open and, just like she always did at the sound of thunder, she froze, completely paralyzed in her irrational fear that she'd never been able to rid herself of; no matter _how_ hard she tried.

At that moment, thoughts of any other boys were completely absent from her racing mind. The only person she wanted, no _, needed_ to see - the only person with the ability to make her feel better during a storm - was her protector and very best friend. Mamoru Chiba.

oOo


	4. Chapter 3

**AN:** gah! I am so overwhelmed by the positive response that I have already received on this silly little fluff fest! I tried to wait to post the next chapter, but I'm so excited!

So a couple of things in response to some reviews. This is completely AU- so no senshi! And also, I feel like I should warn all of you, this fic is a slow burn. It's not going to be a quick coming together! Sorry! though the moments getting them there will be sweet!

Also, I am one of the authors of an FF group called **Elite squad**. This is a collaboration between my very best moonie friends and Bae-tas. **Revy679** and **Ninjette Twitch.** We are all working on a collaboration called What dreams May Come! a New chapter co-written by me and Ninjette Twitch will be posted soon! If you are interested, check it out!

Hope you all enjoy this chapter! please review if you do!

 **Chapter 3**

He woke with a start; the visions in his nightmare, screeching metal, and approaching headlights intermingled with the sound of the resonating, booming thunder effectively pulled him from a restless sleep. It took a moment to orient himself as he raked a hand over his face while his eyes adjusted to the darkness in the interior of his bedroom. The thick blue curtains that hung over his bedroom window, (courtesy of Usagi, otherwise they'd still be bare) were partially opened. It normally afforded him a breathtaking view of the Minato skyline, painted against the backdrop of the night sky. Tonight, though, nothing was visible beyond the sheet of rain that pounded furiously against his window.

There was so much rain, and it was accompanied by the thunder that… with a muttered curse he bolted upright into a sitting position. A thin black cotton sheet fell from his threadbare t-shirt clad chest, as glanced over at his phone that sat, plugged in, on his bedside table. He hastily reached for it and angrily swiped at the screen, which did not light up. _Damn_. He'd known it was going to storm tonight, and he'd purposefully set his alarm. But based on the fact that his bedside table light was _also_ not turning on, it was clear that the power had gone out and his phone had never charged.

A blinding flash of lightning momentarily lit up the darkened contours in his room, and it was closely followed by another loud crash of thunder that exploded outside. _Usako was probably terrified._

With a groan of irritation at himself for having fallen asleep, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. His movements were hurried, and so he almost fell over when his black blanket, tangled around his legs, didn't move with his limbs but was met with resistance.

He twisted his torso around to find the source of the snag and his eyes widened at the sight of a shivering lump, burrowed underneath the comforter, with tresses of cascading golden hair peeking out over the top seam to fan out over the bed. He frowned as he reached back, running his hands over the silky strands that were soft and _damp._

The muscles in his shoulders, that had instantly tensed with his earlier sense of urgency, relaxed as he pulled himself back into the bed with an exasperated sigh. He was normally on top of when a storm was going to happen. The plethora of weather predicting meteorologists were not always accurate, but still. He was usually prepared to go to her when it stormed. It was easier, of course, when he'd lived with the Tsukino's, and on most stormy nights he'd barely been awake, acting solely on instinct, when he stumbled into her room to pull her into his arms.

Usagi's fear of thunder was deep-seated, and he'd seen first hand the effect that it had on her. The memories of her full-blown panic attacks, and her severe anxiety at the mere mention of thunder had prompted him to spend hours pouring over books researching a plausible condition.

For him, it didn't make sense that his fearless, bright little ball of sunshine would crumble over the thought of a loud noise that was only due to the expansion of rapidly heating air. So it became easier for him once he'd been able to associate a name to the debilitating terror that had always plagued her.

Usagi suffered from astraphobia, and between him and her parents, they had gone through the multitude of therapy options that were available for this specific disorder. She'd discussed all of the options with her parents at length. Everything from cognitive behavioural therapy, to exposure therapy to anti-anxiety medication. They were all unacceptable to him, though. A lot of intrusive things for only the _slight_ possibility that it would help her. Especially when the one sure way they'd found that _actually_ worked was when he held her in his arms at the onset of any storm.

This was the first storm since he'd moved into his apartment, though, and he sighed remorsefully as he peeled back the blanket that covered her. His heart constricted painfully in his chest at the sight of her curled into a ball, her eyes clenched shut, and her entire body stiff and shuddering with _very real_ terror.

He was gentle as his hand firmly clasped her arm, and he inwardly cursed at himself in irritation _again_ for having fallen asleep, because the flannel pink shirt of her pyjama was also damp. He knew what it must have taken for her to leave her house and brave the storm to come here, and he loathed the idea of her venturing out, on her own, this late.

His hand shook as he tenderly tightened his hold on her arm and gently pressed his thumb into the cotton fabric of her shirt. "Usako?" He murmured softly, and her eyes flew open. Big round glistening blue eyes peered up at him from beneath lacy black lashes, wet with tears, and he swallowed at the sorrow-filled fear that was pooled in them.

She attempted a smile, though it was strained and shaky. "Mamo-chan," she whispered hoarsely. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to wake you. I used the key you gave me," she breathed and visibly swallowed. "I tried those breathing techniques… the ones from that book you gave me, and I wanted to try and do it on my own, but I couldn't," she said, then choked on a whimper. "Is this okay?"

That she even needed to ask, still, after all this time, was an indication that his little Usako was not herself during a storm. She was many things; clumsy, silly, a little forgetful at times, but she wasn't insecure. Not about their friendship; _not ever_.

In one swift movement, he gently pried an arm under her side and pulled her against him. One arm, the one beneath her, wrapped around her waist and pressed her more tightly against his chest, while the other tucked her head beneath his chin as he tenderly smoothed back her hair. "Usako," he murmured, as his heart began to race from the feeling of her small, dainty fingers curling into the fabric at the front of his shirt. "Of course this is okay. I planned on coming to you, but the power went out, and my phone died," he replied, his voice unintentionally raspy, his lips pressed against the soft, silken curls at the crown of her head.

He felt her nod, and they fell silent as her labored breathing slowly calmed, and the fingers that were desperately clutching at his shirt above his pounding heart relaxed and slowly eased in their tight grip. He continued to stroke the wispy curls at her temple, just as he always did, until he felt her trembling stop.

Another loud bout of booming thunder exploded over the city, but Usagi's breathing had already evened and she'd already melted into his arms and succumbed to sleep. The tension and the shuddering anxiety was gone now that she was safely tucked into his arms. Just like every time he held her like this, for as long as he could remember, from when they were just kids, he'd successfully managed to chase away her fear.

The only difference now, though, was that he loved her. And as much more than just his best friend. So her warm breath fanning across his neck in her sleep, the way her legs intermingled intimately with his and the sweet smell of lavender and vanilla that was distinctly Usako, was practically torture.

He took a deep shaky breath and clenched his eyes shut, even as he tightened his arms around her. It would be so easy to lean down and press his lips onto hers. But Usako was his best friend; he loved her and he would protect her from everything. Even himself. He would do anything for her, and that included holding her through a storm, and languishing in blissful torture way into the early hours of the morning.

oOo

The sunlight that poured in through the window and warmly washed over his face is what woke him the next morning. He was slow to open his eyes, and when he did, he winced and squinted into the brightness. His eyes burned, not only from the light but from the lingering exhaustion that was present as he'd not been able to fall asleep for hours after Usagi had crawled into his bed.

He groaned and rolled onto his back as he pressed the heels of his palms into his closed eyes in an attempt to rid the bleary remnants of sleep away. He exhaled deeply, and reached out, stretching his fingers listlessly across the sheets that he knew would be cold and empty. He already knew that Usako wasn't there with him, because he would have woken up with her still in his arms if she was.

He opened his eyes, and fixed his blurred gaze onto a scuff mark on the ceiling, as his brows furrowed in quiet contemplation. He'd spent months pretending that his feelings for Usako, the less than pure ones that wanted her as more than a friend, didn't exist. He'd tried everything; from convincing himself that he was going insane, to telling himself that his feelings were natural, primal, just an unfortunate result of spending so much time with someone he cared deeply for that just happened to be of the opposite sex.

He'd realized quickly that he was an idiot for even trying to explain it away, and slowly, and painfully came to terms with the fact that he was in love with her. Which, interestingly enough, was ten times worse than being in denial.

He yawned involuntarily as he pulled himself up into a sitting position, and swung his legs over the side of the bed as he stretched the painful kinks out of his neck. He'd considered telling Usagi on more than one occasion about how he felt. Especially when the need to kiss her became overwhelming. Which only happened when she laughed, with bright, shining eyes. When she blushed as she lightly teased him or after she'd unintentionally tripped over her own feet. Or, when she did that head tilt thing, her nose adorably scrunched up when she was confused about something. Then there were the times her face turned red, her eyes blazing as she petulantly stomped her foot or when… he raked a hand through his hair and sighed with frustration. So _, always_. But Usako had no idea, and if he lost her because _he_ couldn't help the way that _he_ felt… there really wasn't another choice but to keep it to himself.

The sound of his front door that opened with a resounding crash and Usako's harshly whispered curse of dismay pulled him from his inner musings. More than likely she'd stubbed her toe or tripped over something, and he rolled his eyes even as one corner of his lips lifted into a half-smile of amusement.

"Maaamo-chan?" she bellowed brightly, unusually chipper for this time of the morning. In his experience, Usako liked to sleep, and she was _not_ generally a morning person. "Where are you?" Her tone was laced with startled surprise, and he stood and gingerly made his way out of the bedroom. He padded barefooted down the hall and into the living room, barely suppressing another yawn as his eyes fell onto her lithe form perched on the step of the genkan.

She was fully dressed, pink-cheeked and bright-eyed as the corners of her lips curled up into a dazzling smile as he approached. It momentarily took his breath away. _Beautiful_. He wished that she wouldn't look at him like that, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably, inwardly irritated with himself for not being able to find a way to deal with all this inner turmoil so that he could be the friend that she needed him to be.

He noted, for the first time, that she held a brown paper bag in one hand, the insignia for Mont Thabor, a local French bakery, etched onto the front, and a brown take away coffee cup in the other. She giggled as she held the coffee cup out for him, "Were you _still_ sleeping, Mamo-chan?" she questioned, her tone tinged with disbelieving laughter. " _As if_. I wish mama could see this! You sleeping in, and me all up and ready to go! Being productive and stuff," she exclaimed merrily, as he took the cup from her with an exasperated shake of his head.

He lifted the cup to his lips, the brew hot and bitter on his tongue, a dark roast, with one milk; his usual. He studied her silently for a moment as she pulled out a lemon tart from the bag, and licked her lips in anticipation of the warm treat. His appreciative stare quickly turned into a frown, though, because she was right. It was unusual for her to be up and about so early. "Usako," he began, his voice still tinged with sleep. "What time did you go home?" He asked, as she'd apparently gone home, had time to shower -as evident by the enticing lavender and vanilla scent wafting from her- and then still had time to go to her favourite bakery.

It was almost comical the way she snapped her mouth shut before biting into the tart that was poised on her lips. Her brows drew together as she thought about it for a minute, "Ummm... 5:00 am, I think?" she said then bit into the lemon tart with gusto and a sigh of pleasure as a bit of lemon syrup drizzled down the side of her mouth. "Dinnit wannta freak out my parents," she mumbled, the words barely audible as she spoke them through a mouthful of pastry.

His frown deepened. "Usako," he began, his tone reproachful. "Don't come here without at least leaving a note for your parents," he scolded gently. The very last thing he wanted to do was upset her parents, whom he respected too much to have them _ever_ mistrust him. "It's not like your parents wouldn't have known why you were coming here, Usa," he continued to scold, though it was half-hearted as she was distracting him with the way she swiped the lemon from her lips, and licked the liquid sugar from her index finger.

She smacked her lips together and rolled her eyes. " _Ooo_ kay, Mamo-chan," she sighed dramatically, though there was a glint of tender amusement in her eyes. "No wonder they like you better than me!" She exclaimed brightly, as she winked and promptly took another bite of the tart.

Her forehead creased suddenly as her eyes swept over him. She quickly swallowed, " _Mamo_ -chan!" She demanded, as her voice rose in pitch.

He rose an eyebrow in question as he took another sip of coffee. " _What_ , Usako?" He replied, imitating her tone, as the corner of his mouth quirked up into another amused half-smile.

Her cheeks reddened becomingly as she shook her head. Her glossy tresses of hair, always in their signature odangoed hairstyle, swirled around her shoulders with the movement. " _Why_ aren't you _dressed_?" She demanded, propped a hand on her hip and leaned forward with narrowed eyes. He shook his head in confusion, which only frustrated her further. " _Ma_ mo!" She whined, stomping her foot _(_ though she claimed that she never did that) "What's wrong with you! We have to meet Mina-chan and Rei-chan at the festival in like 30 minutes!"

He grimaced without thinking because he _had_ forgotten that he'd promised her that they would go to the buskers festival that was in town for this weekend only. He didn't mind Rei, though the quiet Shinto Priestess sometimes made him nervous. _Minako_ , though, drove him insane. "You know, why don't you just-"

She interrupted him with an indignant gasp. " _No_! You are not bailing on me!" She proclaimed as she waved a finger in the air. "I want to spend the day with you, and we already promised Mina-chan and Rei-chan that we would go!" In other words, _she'd_ promised them that _she_ would go.

She was a little spitfire, a hurricane of energy and blonde hair, as she flew towards him and twisted her tiny form behind him, and placed small, warm hands onto the small of his back and tried to forcibly push him towards the bedroom. She couldn't, of course, he barely felt it, but he stepped forward with a lopsided grin with the pretense that she was genuinely making headway.

He was not a fan of large crowds or buskers. To be honest, the thought of a festival filled with excited, over-eager, people was not his idea of fun. But then he pictured Usako's face lit up, her cheeks pink with a warm blush as she enthusiastically consumed one of the many treats that would more than likely be available in various roadside carts, just like she had eaten the pastry in his living room. That vision _alone_ was enticing enough that there was nowhere else that he would rather be.

oOo

This year's festival would undoubtedly be considered a successful crowd turnout. With nearly 20 spots, all within short walking distance of each other, designated as 'stages,' the streets were teeming with people. Men and women of all ages had turned out to watch the various street acts, choose from the variety of festival foods and peruse the baubles and handcrafted Knick knacks offered by multiple street vendors.

He was feeling a little claustrophobic as Usagi excitedly pulled him through the dense crowd of people, and though he admired the way she was expertly dodging the masses, he winced multiple times as elbows accidentally connected to various parts of his torso. They passed a contortionist, a magician (that was also singing opera to xylophone music at the same time, for some reason?) and an interpretative dance troupe dressed as tropical birds before they finally found Minako and Rei.

The black-haired Miko and the blonde-haired fashionista that were Usako's friends were watching an acrobat flying through the air, while also manipulating fire, with awe-struck expressions on their faces. He, personally, was not interested in the show, (though he appreciated the talent required for the routine). So, it was easy to keep his gaze trained on Usako's face, who took in everything with a wide-eyed delight that managed to be alluring and innocent at the same time.

He trailed behind, hands in his pockets, as she skipped excitedly to her friends. "Mina-chan! Rei-chan! We found you!" She exclaimed happily, and slightly out of breath as she skidded to a halt beside them. He cringed when she nearly fell, but she was used to it, and managed to steady herself fairly quickly.

His mouth twitched in amusement, and he shook his head. Usagi had the figure of a ballerina, and when she wasn't _moving,_ it was easy to imagine her being just as graceful. That was not the case, though. His little Usako was a burning ball of seriously _clumsy_ energy. Just another quality that distinctly made up Usagi's personality, and another reason that he loved her so much. Though it did make watching over her a difficult feat not suited for the faint of heart.

Rei's purple irises flashed warmly at Usagi's approach, though her facial features remained smooth and impassive. Minako, on the other hand, squealed excitedly, and bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, her blonde hair fluttering around her with the movements. She instantly hooked her arm with Usagi's, and he sighed with resignation as he finally made it to the threesome.

Minako and Usagi could be twin sisters; their resemblance was uncanny. That, in his opinion, was where the resemblance stopped.

Minako glanced over her shoulder and quirked a perfectly shaped brow at him. "Chiba," she muttered with a smirk and a suggestive wiggle of said eyebrow. "You look miserable, _as always,"_ she quipped in a bright, sing-song voice that made him grit his teeth.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I would say that it's nice to see you again, Aino… but… you know," he retorted, with a sardonic smirk of his own.

She rolled her eyes, in a deliberately slow and dramatic manner before turning back to Usako, who had missed the greeting as she'd become deeply entranced by the show of daring acts in front of them. He glanced over the two blondes to Rei, who was watching him with an intense stare and a half-smirk of her own. He nodded his greeting to the Priestess, and her smile widened as she nodded in return.

"Why did you guys take so long?" Minako complained, leaning into Usagi with excitement. "Don't you _know_ that fast and hurried wins the race, Usagi-chan?"

He snorted at the mangled proverb, but Usagi shot him a silencing look of warning that made him sigh and clamp his mouth shut instead.

Usagi leaned in towards Minako and giggled. "We got distracted by the magician," she breathed conspiratorially as if she were relaying a secret. "Have you seen him yet, Mina-chan?" He couldn't help but smile at the awe in her voice. It didn't take a lot to delight and please Usagi. She was constantly enthralled by the tiniest things that he might have otherwise overlooked if it were not for her.

Minako grinned, her eyes bright as she regarded her friend. He smiled softly and grudgingly admitted that despite how much Minako _purposefully_ annoyed him, there was no denying that the blonde-haired diva truly loved Usagi. "Oh, I saw him alright," she giggled, in a suggestive tone that irritated him to no end. "He was pretty cute - you know- for a _busker,"_ she said imperiously, as she casually flicked her hair over her shoulder. "You know, he kind of looks like my ex," she said, as her brows drew together in quiet contemplation.

He closed his eyes and prayed for the patience that was required in order to get through an afternoon with Aino Minako. "Do you mean Kaito?" Usagi asked, her head tilted to the side curiously.

Minako opened her mouth to respond, but Rei interrupted her. "She means Hinata," the Priestess murmured with an exasperated sigh of her own, though Rei's was more resigned and her eyes were filled with loving amusement.

Usagi's eyes grew wide, and she nodded. "Ah, right, Hinata," she said, and he suppressed a grin. Usagi had no idea who Minako was talking about.

There was a flash of fire above them, and he became distracted as a female acrobat, dressed in a lime green leotard soared through the air and landed with startling precision onto a raised platform.

He was so preoccupied contemplating the calculations required to pull something like that off, that he almost missed Minako's next words. " _Speaking_ of boys Usagi-chan, do you remember that movie we went to a couple of weeks ago with some friends from my school?" She questioned covertly, with a sly smile that made Mamoru frown.

Usagi smiled ruefully and shook her head. "I remember the movie… but not _all_ of your friends. Sorry, Mina-chan. It was such a big group," she murmured sheepishly, with an apologetic tilt of her head.

Minako waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, don't worry about that, Usagi-chan," she reassured sweetly. "Sometimes _I_ can't even recall all of their names!" She giggled, prompting an inward sigh of irritation from him. "Anyways, there's this _boy._ Kou Seiya. He _definitely_ noticed you. He wondered if he could have your number?"

Mamoru froze, the blood drained from his face, and it felt like his heart stopped as he carefully studied Usagi's expression in order to gauge her reaction. _Stupid_ , Minako. _Of course_ she'd want to give Usagi's number to one of her many guy friends.

Usagi looked taken aback for a moment, as she blinked several times in confusion. "He - He wants my number?" She stuttered, as if she couldn't conceive the idea that a boy wanted _her_ number. He clenched his hands into fists, and uncomfortably shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He'd known, of course, that there would come a time when a boy would undoubtedly want to go out with her. It didn't stop the sour taste in his mouth at the thought, though.

Minako snorted disbelievingly. "Girl, have you seen yourself? You're stunning! Of course he wants your number! Can I give it to him?" She questioned brightly, and though he agreed with Minako, _Usagi was indeed stunning,_ he needed to resist the urge to clasp her wrist and forcibly pull her away from this damn conversation.

His breath hitched painfully in his throat as her expression shifted from confusion to a look of excitement and _delight._ "Oh! Well, yes… I guess that would be okay, Mina-chan!" She exclaimed brightly, and he swallowed past the lump of jealousy that lodged in his throat, though he couldn't stop himself from the words he blurted out next.

"Usako, I don't think it's a good idea to give your number out to random strangers," he snapped with unnecessary harshness. He internally cringed at the crisp tone that sounded condescending, even to his own ears.

Both girls turned towards him. Minako with a questioning smirk, and raised eyebrows and Usagi with a crease between her delicate brows, as she tilted her head and peered up at him with confusion.

He exhaled slowly, inwardly cursing his stupidity. He didn't have any right to dictate who Usagi gave her number to, and he wanted to kick himself for being so _obvious._

Usagi's frown melted away and, surprisingly, she offered him one of her breathtaking smiles. "You're probably right, Mamo-chan," she shrugged, then lightly squeezed his arm. "You're always looking out for me," she said light-heartedly, with a playful wink before turning back to the show.

He was glad that she'd turned away because she missed the guilty grimace that washed onto his face. He glanced up and met Rei's gaze, who peered at him with a knowing look in the depths of violet eyes. She offered him a sympathetic smile before turning back to the show herself.

He sighed miserably, as his shoulders tensed and his face contorted into a sullen scowl. He was terrible at hiding his feelings for her, and he knew that everyone, including the raven-haired Shinto priestess, knew _exactly_ how he felt. His eyes fell onto the soft contours of Usagi's awe-filled face. _Everyone except for her._

oOo


	5. Chapter 4

**AN:** Guys! I am so grateful for all the reviews, and favoriters and followers that I have received for this story! I'm so glad you all seem to be enjoying it as much as I am enjoying writing it! Again, much love to my favorites bae-ta beauties: **Revy679** and **Ninjette Twitch.** If you have not checked out What Dreams May come by Elite Squad , you totally should, the latest chapter features Wonderland and all sorts of fun stuff co-written by yours truly!

I hope you guys like this next chapter! If you do.. please, please Review?

 **Chapter 4**

The sun was shining, like _really_ shining, and the warmth of its rays pierced through the glass windows and washed over every surface of the classroom. Usagi quietly sighed, propped her chin onto her palm and perched her elbow onto the top of her desk. With her free hand, she absentmindedly traced the word 'love' that had been etched with some kind of sharp object into the faded light-stained, scuffed wood, that had definitely seen better days, on the top of her desk. Sensei-Haruna's voice was particularly monotone today, and it wasn't _her_ fault that she automatically tuned her out.

Why did it only have to be Monday? And why was the stupid sun so bright and inviting? She twisted her neck sideways, and her gaze fell onto the lush green landscape of the schoolyard longingly. She would _much_ rather be out there than trapped in _here_. Her wistful look quickly faded away as her forehead creased slightly between perfectly manicured blonde eyebrows. Truthfully, she wished that she was with Mamoru, at the park, or his apartment, or _even_ one of those boring conventions he sometimes dragged her to. Though, she couldn't _really_ complain. She was dragging him to things he didn't want to do _all the time._

She felt a twinge of something in her chest, a little flutter that promptly deepened her frown. She always wanted to spend time with Mamoru, but lately, she wanted to be around him much more than usual. She didn't think it was strange, _per se_ ; this was the way things had _always_ been between her and her best friend. Why should it make her feel different?

She shook her head, almost to clear it of strange thoughts that she didn't really care to delve into and inwardly cursed the other girls and all of their talk of _boys_ and _dating_. That was clearly what was bothering her, and she smiled with relief with the realization. There wasn't anything different. Mamoru was the exact same, sweet, protector that he'd _always_ been, and she was so grateful to have a friend like him in her life.

She'd turned her thoughts to recalling the events of the past weekend, and how she really wanted to beat her high score on the Sailor V game, when she was firmly interrupted by a loud resounding thud. She jumped, startled out of her reveries, as she craned her neck upwards to peer into the reproachful irritated gaze of Sensei Haruna that had angrily slammed her palm on the top of the word 'love' that she'd just been tracing.

It only took Usagi a moment, with a quick glance over the other students sitting quietly in the classroom, to know that she was in trouble.

Haruna's scowl deepened, and she shook her head with disbelief. Amber-colored hair twirled around her shoulders with the action. "Usagi-san, did you hear anything that I have just asked you?" She demanded, and her tone was tinged with exasperation and an angry frustration that she couldn't entirely hide.

Usagi gulped and offered her a sheepish smile. "I'm - I'm sorry, Sensei. I must have missed that?" She practically squeaked the words out, and there were low, hushed whispers, intermingled with laughter that echoed out like a wave of humiliation throughout the room.

She felt the heat rise from her neck and spread out hotly over her cheeks. She'd been daydreaming, _again,_ and she'd clearly missed something.

Haruna's tense shoulders relaxed as she straightened her body and shook her head again, but this time with resigned defeat. "Usagi-san, I need to see you after class," she whispered, and her tone was firm and filled with a harshness that immediately prompted a sing-song trilling sound of mocking "oooohhhs" that made her face feel like it was on fire. She slumped further into her seat, and wished, with everything in her, that the floor would open up and swallow her whole. "That's enough!" Haruna chided reproachfully and effectively silenced the classroom.

Usagi twisted her hands, that were beginning to feel damp with nervous sweat, into the blue fabric of her pleated skirt in her lap. _How embarrassing…_ She thought and swallowed around the lump in her throat. She didn't need to wonder what Haruna wanted to see her about after class. There were a variety of things that could have generated a request to speak with her; her inattentiveness, her less than stellar grades, and her inability to pay attention to anything that was said to her, which is exactly what had prompted that embarrassing debacle.

She grimaced as the Sensei stiffly made her way back up to the front of the classroom and resumed her lesson. She swore that if she could get out of whatever it was that was about to happen, she would take her dad's advice, pull a page out of Mamo-chan's book and actually listen!

Of course, the thought of Mamoru sent her spiralling into another train of thought about festivals, storms and how she couldn't wait to to see him again.

It wasn't her fault, really. How could she even begin to concentrate on school when the sun was shining so brightly, and everything reminded her of her very best friend?

 _oOo_

She was in _so_ much trouble. _Like, an insane amount of trouble_. Her stomach was churning violently as she made her way down the schoolyard walkway, and trailed miserably behind Naru and Makoto after school. She was practically dragging her feet, as her arms clutched around the leather book bag that was so much heavier than usual. It was laden with all of the books that she needed for the _stupid_ chemistry test, that she'd completely forgotten about, _tomorrow._

Something that Haruna had reminded her of, when she'd held her back after class, and had, in no uncertain terms, advised her that if she didn't pass with at least an 80% on the test tomorrow that she would be _forced_ to take summer classes.

Her face whitened into what she was sure was a milky-white flush of pure _death,_ as she groaned out loud. _There was no way._ She was going to fail, and her whole summer would be ruined. All of the fun things she'd planned to do with Mamo-chan before he officially became a super awesome University student, _totally gone_. All because of some stupid chemistry formulas that, let's be serious, she was _never_ going to use again.

She was so lost in her woe-filled thoughts, that she didn't notice it when Makoto stopped to look at her, and she promptly collided into her friend. With a grunt of pain, she wobbled, and if not for Makoto that grasped her arm, she would have fallen back onto the cement.

The blood rushed back into her cheeks, that reddened with embarrassment. Tears pricked threateningly at the corners of her eyes, but she promptly blinked them back. Today was _not_ her day, and she was a little annoyed with how emotional she was getting.

Makoto smiled sympathetically and tilted her head with a look of tender concern written across her face. "Hey, are you alright Usagi-chan?" she questioned gently as she let go of her arm, took a step back, and peered down into her face worriedly. "You don't seem like yourself today."

Usagi visibly swallowed, tightened her hold on her book bag and nodded. "Yeah, you're definitely right about that," she breathed miserably. "I have a test tomorrow, Mako-chan. If I don't get 80% I'll need to go to summer school," she muttered under her breath, her gaze downcast and fixed onto the toe of Makoto's brown leather shoe. _Why couldn't she have paid more attention in class?_

Naru's perfectly polished, black kitten heels came into view, and she tentatively looked up into her softly smiling face. "Usagi-chan! You still have time to study!" She reassured warmly, "It's still early!"

Usagi grimaced, sighed, and dejectedly shook her head. "Naru-chan, I really appreciate your faith in me," she began softly and shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably. "But it would take me forever to get all these notes organized, read the entire sixth, seventh _and_ eighth chapter of the textbook to even _remotely_ have a chance at passing!" She practically cried, each word firmly cementing her fun _less_ summer fate.

Naru chuckled and exchanged an amused look with Makoto. "Usagi-chan, it just sounds to me like you need _help_ studying," Naru suggested, and Usagi frowned because there was a double meaning behind her words that she just wasn't getting.

Makoto smiled brightly and leaned forward to comfortingly squeeze her arm. "Usagi-chan," her voice was tinged with good-natured laughter. "Now _who_ do you know that is super smart and would do anything in the _whole wide world_ just to see you smile?" She asked, with a suggestive tilt of her head.

Usagi's brows drew together in confusion for a moment before her eyes widened with the realization of what she was suggesting. Right! _Of course!_ Mamoru _was_ the smartest person she knew, and if anyone could help her study, it was obviously him!

She was relieved for only a moment when she recalled that it was Monday. _Ugh._ She hated Monday. Not just because it was the beginning of another long school week, but because Mondays were Mamoru's day to stay home and do all of the school assignments that he didn't do during the week when he was spending time with her.

It was an agreement that they'd made months ago. Usagi knew how important school was to Mamo-chan, _he was going to be a doctor after all,_ and she knew how distracting it was at the arcade. _Then,_ he had dinner with her and her family, so by the time he got home he was forced to stay up super late to get anything done! She'd noticed the exhaustion for what it was, and they had agreed that he would have Mondays dedicated just for school.

It was a good idea, though, it wasn't really any help to her _right now._ "It's Monday, Mako-chan," she murmured, and her friends smiled and exchanged _another_ knowing look. _What was that even about?_

Naru opened her mouth, poised to say something before she snapped it shut again and shook her head. The red-tinged brown locks of her hair fluttered around the contours of her face. "Usagi-chan, I seriously doubt that Mamoru-san would turn you away if you turned up at his door and asked him for help," she reassured softly. "He's in - well. He's your best friend, after all," she finished, though her voice faltered a bit with her last statement.

Usagi peered into her friend's encouraging faces, and she sighed. She didn't know if even Mamo-chan could get her out of this one, but he _was_ her best friend, and it couldn't hurt to ask. She nodded, and already she felt a bit of the weight lift from her chest, as eager anticipation began to blossom there instead. Because if she _had_ to study, there was nobody else that she would rather study with than Mamo-chan.

Maybe this Monday wouldn't suck so much after all?

oOo

She would have typically just flown into his apartment in a flurry, but, she wasn't supposed to be here, and so she knocked instead. She only needed to knock once before he opened the door and she was greeted with a surprised look shining from his cobalt blue eyes and etched onto the chiselled features of his face.

She was like a whirlwind of energy and nerves as she wordlessly ducked underneath his arm and swept into the apartment. Her breath was coming out in short little huffs from the exertion required to bound up the stairs, and she was regretting her decision not to wait for the elevator as she tossed her book bag onto the floor.

Mamoru was still frowning as the door snapped shut behind her, and he turned to face her. "Usako? Are you alright?" he asked softly and stepped towards her, his eyes filled with confused concern. The look elicited that strange fluttering feeling in her chest, that seemed to be plaguing her more often as of late.

She shook her head and cleared her throat. She could understand his confusion, she hadn't been here on a Monday in _ages_ , as she'd been the one who was adamant that he needed a day to himself for his school stuff.

She grinned sheepishly, as slender fingers automatically fiddled with the seam of her shirt. "Mamo-chan," she breathed, strangely nervous all of a sudden. Which was ridiculous, of course. She could ask him anything. "I need your help," she blurted, and she could feel the warm blush creep up her neck and spread across her face.

Jeez, what was wrong with her? _This was Mamoru._ She inwardly grimaced; It was probably because she was embarrassed. He was _always_ telling her how she should be studying, and though it was mostly in his chiding, gentle tone that only made her smile, she was still dreading telling him how badly she'd messed up.

His frown deepened. "What's wrong, Usa?" He questioned, and the low baritone of his voice sounded velvety and filled with worry. It only served to intensify her guilt.

She bit her bottom lip nervously. "Okay, so. Here's the thing," she began and inhaled deeply in preparation. "You know how I was supposed to do that assignment for chemistry? You know the one that I told you I was almost halfway done?" She'd practically squeaked the words out, and they were accompanied by a nervous, high pitched laugh, that sounded trill to even her own ears.

He nodded, slowly, and raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms. She winced at the _knowing_ look that entered his eyes. "You didn't do it, did you?" He said with an exasperated sigh.

All of the tension seeped out of her body, and her shoulders slumped as she hung her head with shame. "No," she muttered miserably. "I totally forgot, Mamo-chan," she murmured remorsefully, and she really _did_ regret it. She wished, more than anything, that school was interesting to her. "Anyways, because I didn't do the assignment, my whole entire grade is dependant on a single test that I need to score 80 or higher on, or I'll fail and have to go to summer school," she continued, spitting out the words as quickly as possible.

The confusion returned to his face, and he shook his head. A tuft of raven hair falling onto his forehead with the movement. "Okay, well, it's not ideal, Usako, but-"

She promptly interrupted him, her cheeks red hot with embarrassment. "Tomorrow," she blurted. "The test is tomorrow."

His eyes widened for a moment, before he sighed softly, rolled his eyes and shook his head with exasperation. "Usako," he scolded, his tone firm, laced with resignation, though she _did_ detect the small hint of a smile on his lips.

She lifted her hands in supplication before he could continue. "I know! I know!" She groaned, "I suck! I so totally suck, but…" she trailed off, gulped, and offered him her most winsome smile. "I _really_ don't want to go to summer school. Can you help me?" She practically pleaded, and her heart soared when he chuckled softly.

He stepped out of the genkan and began to remove his jacket; the really nice leather one that her parents had bought him for his birthday. Her brows drew together in a frown because It was only then that she noticed that he was dressed nicely… not that he wasn't usually dressed nicely, but today he looked _exceptionally_ handsome in tapered black jeans and his really fancy blue button-down shirt; the one that matched the deep blue of his eyes.

It suddenly occurred to her that he'd been on his way out, and her eyes widened in alarm. "Oh! Mamo-chan, did you have plans tonight?" She questioned quickly, her nose scrunching up with guilt. "I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed, her voice laced with contrition. Obviously, Mamoru had a life _outside_ of her. She should have texted him first. "I can ask my new friend Ami. She's super smart, just like you, Mamo-chan. I don't know why I didn't even think of her," she murmured, and she knew she was rambling now. Why hadn't she considered that he might have plans?

Mamoru hung up his jacket, shook his head, and rolled up his sleeves. "It's fine, Usako," he said gently, and she felt all of her nervousness melt away at the sight of amused tenderness warmly etched onto the contours of his face. "I want to help you," he reassured. "But, I need you to start working harder in school, Usako. I _know_ how smart you are if you could just…" she sensed a very long rant, filled with gentle reprimands in a lovingly scolding tone, coming. So she bounded the two steps to close the gap between them, wrapped her arms around his waist in a hug of appreciation, which promptly interrupted his well-meaning tirade.

He wrapped his arms around her as she tucked her head beneath his chin and pressed her ear to his chest. She'd only meant to hug him quickly, but she lingered in his embrace for a moment longer, because it felt so lovely, so comforting, the sound of his heartbeat was soothing and the fluttering in her chest that intensified when she was in his arms, felt good too.

She finally pulled away and peered up into his face. His expression was soft but guarded, and she graced him with her brightest smile.

In one swift movement, she knelt down, picked up her hefty book bag from the floor, and twirled around excitedly. "Thank you, Mamo-chan!" She exclaimed. "You're the best friend a girl could ask for!" She exclaimed brightly and bounded into the living room. She wasn't sure, but she thought that maybe she heard him groan as he followed behind her.

oOo

She chewed the back of her thumbnail nervously and watched as Mamoru _slowly_ marked her practice test paper from where she sat, her legs curled beneath her, from his black leather recliner. He was sitting on the floor, cross-legged, in front of the coffee table that had books, and papers that were strewn across the top of it.

She honestly thought her brain was going to melt, she'd been jamming so much information into her head for the past three hours. Mamo-chan was diligently writing the notes out for her, and she was studying them. She wasn't even sure where he'd managed to find a practice test for her but knowing Mamoru, he'd probably written it up himself.

She was watching the paper she'd just finished working on, his red pen marking up its surface when her gaze lifted to study his profile. Her heart skipped a beat, and her breath hitched in her throat as her brows drew together in confusion. He looked completely at ease sitting there, rolled up sleeves, hair slightly ruffled, and a slight frown on his face as his eyes fixed onto the paper in complete concentration. Had the outline of his jaw always been so prominent? Had the muscles in his shoulders and arms always been so sinuously _distinct_?

The strange thoughts caught her off guard, and so she was in a bit of a daze when he looked up and spoke. "Usako?" He questioned with a raised eyebrow. "Did you hear what I said?" He asked, his voice filled with amusement.

She snapped out of it, and with a rueful smile, she shook her head. "Sorry, Mamo-chan. What did you say?" She asked, her tone apologetic.

He sighed, again, and the corners of his lips turned up into a smile. "62, Usako," he said softly, and after a moment of confusion, it dawned on her what he meant. _62?_ After all of that work, and she'd only scored a _measly 62?_ That was terrible! "Usa, this is a _significant_ improvement. I think you're doing great," he reassured softly.

Her face fell, and she threw herself back, and the crown of her head hit the cushioned chair with dramatic flair. She moaned miserably. "No! It's terrible! I'm doomed, Mamo-chan! _So_ doomed!" she exclaimed, and though she knew that she was being just a tad bit theatrical, she couldn't help herself. If she were standing, she probably would have stomped her foot, though, she would adamantly deny it if Mamo-chan pointed it out.

Mamoru shook his head and rolled his eyes, one corner of his lips quirked up into a smirking half-smile. "You're _not_ doomed, Usako," he chuckled and turned back to the vast array of diabolical chemistry notes whose sole purpose was to torture her. "Stop being dramatic, and open up the notes I made for you, and cross-reference them with your book," he ordered, his tone firm and filled with dismissive confidence that she was just not getting. _Three hours!_ That miserable mark had taken her three hours of studying, and she'd barely managed that!

She groaned again, loudly, miserably, and filled with an exaggerated despondency that made her handsome raven-haired friend chuckle again. "You know, Usako," he said lightly, as he popped open her textbook and pulled out a fresh piece of lined paper. "If you _do_ fail, it's only one summer class," he said, and she knew that he was trying to reassure her, but she couldn't help the petulant scowl that etched onto her facial features.

He was already scribbling notes down for her next chapters, so he didn't notice the look she was giving him. She watched him, still continuing to scowl darkly, and wondered how a _boy_ could have such organized and neat handwriting anyways. Her scowl melted away, and she inwardly sighed. He was right, of course. It was only _one_ class, but it would be early in the morning… which meant… "You know, if I have to do summer classes, we won't be able to do our regular arcade morning routine," she said slyly, as her lips curled into a coy smile.

It was her _favourite_ thing to do during the summer, and she knew that it was his, too. In the summer, they spent every morning (well.. When she woke up anyways) at the Arcade, where he would drink his coffee, and she would play her games. Then sometimes, they would stop at her favorite French bakery where he would try whatever new item she ordered and sometimes they would pop into his favourite used bookstore where she would help him find some dusty old manuscript. It had become comfortable, natural, and she knew he loved the summer routine as much as she did.

He didn't respond right away, though she noted the way his shoulders tensed and the scowl that wrinkled on his brow. "Read, Usagi," was all he muttered as he continued to furiously scribble away.

She smiled at the sight, and her slender fingers tightened around the three-ring binder filled with all of his meticulous notes. He was so sweet, so helpful. She really should have just opened the binder, snapped her mouth shut, and delved into what he'd written to help her.

Instead, she giggled brightly. "What is this Usagi business? No Usako, Mamo-chan?" she asked impishly, a playful glint shining from her eyes.

His jaw clenched, and he shook his head, rolling his eyes skyward, as his fingers flexed around the moving pen. "If you're talking, you're not studying, Usa," he gently chastised under his breath and promptly ignored her resulting bark of laughter.

She did open the binder though, and her laughter faded as she began to study the things he'd written. It was easier to read, now that she understood it a little better. Mamo-chan was terrific at organizing what had looked like a ton of gibberish to her, and her heart clenched in her chest at the thought of how much what he was doing tonight meant to her.

She was a little overwhelmed, actually, by the strange fluttering feeling in her chest, and she swallowed as she stamped it down and tried to focus on memorizing his written words.

It was silent, except for the sound of pen on paper and the occasional turn of a page, when he spoke again. "You know, Tsukino. If you spent as much time on chemistry, as you do reading manga, you wouldn't be in this mess," he chided gently, without lifting his gaze from her paper. She tilted her face up and rolled her eyes at him. "Actually," he began lightly, "I should hide all of the manga that you have tucked around the apartment so that this doesn't happen again," he teased, with a rare playful glint shining from his eyes as he chuckled with amusement.

She bit back a smile and widened her eyes in contrived indignant dismay. "You better not, Chiba!" she exclaimed threateningly, and he finally glanced up from her paper to smirk at her. "Cause you'll regret it when I become a famous manga illustrator later on and have like… a kagillion issues out!" she quipped airily with an imperious toss of her hair.

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow, his smirk widening. " _Kagillion_ is not a word, Usako," he corrected, his tone laced with amusement, as he let his pen fall onto the surface of the table.

She snorted with an exaggerated huff and lifted her nose in the air haughtily. "Well… it is in _my_ manga, baka, and if you're not careful, I'm going to draw you out of them!" she proclaimed, a half-hearted threat that made him burst into laughter, and the corners of her lips lift into a victorious smile.

He leaned his elbow onto the coffee table, propped his head into his palm and regarded her with amusement. "Oh yeah? Guess you'll need to draw in a new villain, then," he said lightly, chuckling, his deep blue eyes filled with a tender softness that filled her with a warm, comforting feeling.

She snorted, leaned back, and flipped her legs over the armrest of the chair, settling across the seat horizontally. " _Obviously_ I'll need to draw in a new hero, Baka," she said with a dramatic sigh. " _Clearly_ you're the hero of _all_ my manga dreams!" she was still teasing him, as she flipped the page in her binder with an exaggerated flourish of her wrist. She was still giggling to herself when she noticed, suddenly, that he'd gone silent.

She glanced up curiously, and was surprised to see a stricken look on his face; all hints of the playful banter they'd just been exchanging, completely gone. The sudden change in mood surprised her, and she opened her mouth to ask what was wrong when he cleared his throat and turned back to the notes. "Keep studying, Odango," he murmured, and, curiously, there was a warm blush tinging his cheeks.

She frowned but turned back to the notes in her lap. Mamoru was her best friend, but sometimes the silly boy confused her.

"Usako, call your parents if you're spending the night," he demanded softly, and her frown melted into a smile.

There was one thing that she would _never_ be confused about, though, and that was the fact that Mamoru was a permanent part of her family.

She leaned forward in the chair and reached over to the coffee table to grab the bedazzled pink-cased phone that sat precariously on the edge. She was definitely going to call her parents because of course, there was no doubt about it, she was going to be spending the night.

oOo

With an exaggerated sigh, Usagi plopped down onto the swivel stool at the arcade counter. She propped her elbows onto the countertop and, lost in thought, perched a dainty chin onto her palms. It had been a relatively uneventful day, except for the stupid chemistry test that she surprisingly felt pretty good about. She'd _never_ left a test feeling confident _before_. Of course, she had Mamo-chan to thank for that. If not for him, she would have _definitely_ failed. At least now there was at least a _chance_ that she'd passed.

She was smiling, lost in thoughts of her night spent studying, _of all things,_ with her best friend, when Motoki appeared from the kitchen and approached her with an indulgent smile on his lips. He placed his palms onto the counter and leaned forward slightly with a questioning tilt of his head. "Hey, Usagi-chan," he greeted warmly, which promptly pulled her from her thoughts. "Where's Mamoru? He's usually in by now," he questioned, as he twisted around and automatically began to pour her usual, a strawberry milkshake, into a tall glass.

Usagi sighed again as she pulled the enticing drink that Motoki offered her to her lips and loudly sucked the deliciously creamy confection through the straw. Motoki raised an amused eyebrow as he patiently waited for her response.

She pulled the straw from her lips, shrugged, and grinned ruefully. "He texted me at lunch," she responded. "Some kind of library study thing." She grimaced at the thought of _willingly_ staying at school after class hours. "He usually goes into school super early to do it, but we were up late last night studying for my test today. So, he kind of slept in," she said, a guilty grimace on her face as a slightly pink tinge crept up her neck. She _would_ have woken him up, but she wasn't in the habit of rising early, herself.

Motoki's smile faded, and his brows furrowed. "Wait, you studied with Mamoru _last night_ , Usagi-chan?" He questioned, and his tone held a note of confused concern. "What time did you go over to his apartment to study?"

Usagi's brows drew together into a frown of her own. She didn't understand the tone of Motoki's voice. "I went there right after school, Motoki," she responded, thoroughly worried by the hardened look that suddenly washed over his facial features. Motoki was generally very laid back, and there wasn't very much that bothered him. Which was why his expression was _so_ disconcerting.

Motoki shook his head, with his jaw clenched tightly and disbelief shining from his eyes as he, _almost angrily_ , began to wipe down the counter. Usagi's frown deepened, and her gaze fixed onto the bent over head of sandy-colored hair that belonged to her friend in front of her. Why would Motoki be almost _annoyed_ that Mamo-chan had helped her study?

It was a strange reaction, and Usagi swallowed nervously, not entirely sure why Motoki's disapproval for something that was so _normal_ bothered her. "Is… Is everything okay?" she stammered softly, and Motoki's head snapped up to meet her gaze. "I know Monday's are usually for his school stuff, but... he didn't seem to mind?" She wasn't even sure why she felt the need to explain herself to Motoki.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and her forehead creased with concern. _Why was he even upset?_ She knew that the arcade part-timer was basically Mamoru's only _male_ friend, but he'd never been annoyed that he was spending time with her before. Did Motoki all of a sudden, _not like her?_

Motoki must have read the alarmed, slightly hurt, expression on her face, because the hardened contours of his facial features instantly softened. He sighed, his tensed posture relaxing as he offered her a soft smile. "I'm sure he didn't mind at all, Usagi-chan," he reassured gently. "How did you do on your test?"

Her face lit up with relief, and she was already dismissing his strange behavior, as she opened her mouth to excitedly tell him how well she was sure she'd done. She didn't manage to say a word, though, because she was interrupted by an eager, bright-eyed Makoto that appeared beside her, leaned over the counter, and effectively blocked her view of Motoki. The brunette was closely followed by a more tentative, though equally bright-eyed blunette that very carefully seated herself on the stool on the other side of Usagi.

Usagi closed her mouth, the corners of her lips quirking up into a smile as she watched Makoto bat her eyelashes, and smile very prettily at Motoki who raised a questioning eyebrow as his gaze fixed onto the brunette's face. "Motoki, may I please have a vanilla milkshake?" She practically purred, and Usagi pressed her fingers over her lips to suppress a giggle at her friend's very overt attempt at flirting.

Motoki, ever the gentleman, just chuckled and nodded warmly. "Of course, Mako-chan," he said, then leaned over to get a glass for the brunette. Makoto turned to Usagi and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Usagi couldn't stop the giggle that spilled from her lips as she playfully slapped Makoto's arm, and shook her head in mock disapproval. Makoto winked, even as the blunette, their newest friend Ami, purposefully averted her eyes, her cheeks burning an embarrassed crimson red.

Motoki pretended that he hadn't noticed, though Usagi noted a smirk on his lips as he turned around and diligently began to make Makoto's requested beverage.

Ami cleared her throat and tucked a strand of her short blue hair behind her ear as she turned, swivelling her stool around, to face Usagi. "How was your test, Usagi-chan?" she asked warmly, and though Usagi knew she really only wanted to change the subject, her interest was genuine.

Ami was the most intelligent person that she knew, _apart from Mamo-chan_ , and she smiled at the introverted blunette brightly. It was taking a bit, but her newest friend was slowly coming out of her shell and opening up. Usagi opened her mouth to respond but was once again interrupted.

This time it was by the bell that chimed loudly as the arcade door opened, and a large group of people, their voices loud, pushed their way into the room. She recognized a couple of them, suddenly, as friends of Minako's.

She possessed a vast array of annoying faults that she was diligently working on. One of them was the uncanny ability she had to get distracted very easily. Which was precisely what happened as she clasped one hand onto the edge of the counter, her fingers clutching at the wooden surface as she slowly leaned her body to the side to peer around Ami at the newcomers.

This would have been an easy task for a regular girl. Unfortunately, she was not a _regular_ girl. In other words, she was, what her mother so lovingly called her, _spatially challenged_. Which, of course, made her the most likely candidate for _the clumsiest girl on the planet._ Which was why nobody in the room, least of all her, was surprised when her tightened grip eased, and her fingers slipped off the countertop. It must have looked pretty funny, her hands flailing futilely in the air, her eyes wide and her lips parted in shock as she promptly fell off of her stool onto the cold-tiled floor with a resounding thud.

She winced at the pain that shot up her elbows that she'd luckily used to brace her fall, even as Makoto burst into laughter and Ami gasped with dismay.

She groaned, her face red with horrified humiliation, (though, really, she was used to this kind of thing,) as she carefully twisted her body, pressed her palms into the tile, and pulled her legs beneath her so that she could pull herself up into a kneeling position.

She was carefully taking stock of her minor injuries when a pair of scuffed white running shoes came into view. Her brow furrowed as she craned her neck upwards to peer into the face of a boy. There was an amused smirk on his lips, and she grimaced, her face burning hotly as she accepted the outstretched hand he offered her.

She grunted as he pulled her up into a standing position, and she inwardly cursed as she wobbled, _fell_ into him, and he needed to steady her. _Ugh, why was she so clumsy?_

She took a hasty step back, and smiled apologetically at the boy, who she noted was watching her with amusement glinting in his light blue eyes. "Um, thanks," she said with a nervous giggle that bubbled out of her throat involuntarily. "I'm a little clumsy," she murmured, and Makoto and Motoki both snorted behind her.

Her face, she was sure, had turned a brilliant shade of red based on the heat she could feel radiating from her cheeks, and she shot her friends a quick silencing glare before she turned back to the boy who'd rescued her from the arcade floor.

His smirk widened, and he chuckled, little crinkles creasing at the corners of his eyes with mirth. "I remember your clumsiness, Usagi-san," he said, and the baritone of his voice was a low rumbling sound that was warm and reassuring. "You spilled your popcorn on my lap when you tripped at the movie theatre," he continued, and Usagi didn't think it was possible, but her face burned an even brighter shade of red.

Her fingers nervously fiddled with the fabric of her skirt as she suppressed a humiliated groan. She _did_ briefly remember that, though she tended to fall a lot, and she mostly tried to forget most of her embarrassing encounters. She bit her bottom lip as her gaze perused the boys face in a hurried attempt to recall him amidst all of Minako's friends that had been there that day.

His features were defined, angled and chiselled, though they were softer and a bit daintier than Mamoru. His hair was the same shade as Mamoru's, though it was quite a bit longer and tied back into a ponytail. It wasn't rare to see boys with long hair, though it didn't suit everyone, and she couldn't help but smile as the picture of _Mamoru_ with a ponytail popped into her head. The strange flutter returned in her chest suddenly, and it took a moment before she noted that the boy was studying her face too, and he lifted a brow inquisitively at the sight of her smile.

She shook her head with embarrassment at the realization that she still hadn't responded, and cleared her throat. "Oh, um, I'm sorry. I don't recall," she said apologetically. "I tend to fall, a lot," she said, then just because the situation was too much, and because she honestly didn't feel like dwelling in embarrassment any longer, she winked, shrugged, and offered the boy one of her brightest smiles.

She was confused by the red tinge that spread across his cheeks, suddenly, as he chuckled nervously. She tilted her head to the side as she studied him with curiosity. Was this just a boy thing? _Why was everyone acting so weird today?_

He cleared his throat, "My name is Kou Seiya. I actually asked Mina-chan if-if she would pass along your number, but she said that she needed to ask you first," he said with a sheepish smile, as he shifted from one foot to the other. Usagi's eyes widened as she recalled Minako mentioning this at the festival.

She was nervous, all of a sudden, with the knowledge that he was not some random boy, but one that had wanted her number. "Oh! Right," she said, with a nervous giggle of her own. Her heart was racing in her chest now, and she discreetly wiped her sweaty palms into her skirt. Did that mean that he'd meant to ask her out on a date? The thought was oddly disconcerting, and she wished that Mamo-chan was here, so that she could ask him what he thought.

Surely there was nothing _wrong_ with Seiya. Minako would never steer her towards a boy that had something off with him. Well… not on _purpose_ anyway. She met Seiya's questioning gaze with a tentative smile. "You can have my number," she blurted. "If you still want it," she amended, internally kicking herself at the bold assumption.

Seiya responded with a bright smile that put her at ease, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He unlocked it and swiped his finger across the surface a couple of times before handing it to her. She smiled shyly, took the phone and quickly input her number into the contacts list that he'd opened for her.

There was a call from behind them, one of Seiya's friends beckoning him away, as it appeared that his group had decided to leave the arcade. Seiya waved them away dismissively as he took back his phone from her outstretched hand. His fingers grazed across hers, and her heart fell slightly as she felt…. Nothing. She'd seen enough romantic comedies to know that there was supposed to be some kind of spark. Wasn't there?

"It was so nice to see you again, Usagi-san," Seiya said, and his voice was warm and gentle. "I have to go, it seems, but I thought that maybe I could take you out. For dinner? On Friday night?" he asked, and his hopeful tone _did_ make her blush a little. Was this really happening? A boy _actually_ liked her?

She'd never actually been on a date before, and Seiya _was_ handsome, and he seemed kind enough. Hadn't the girls been dropping strange hints to her for weeks that maybe she should consider dating? And anyway, was that spark thing really even an _actual_ thing? She internally scoffed at her gullibility. They _were_ movies after all. Maybe the spark would come later.

She was admittedly a little excited as she nodded, "I need to ask permission from my parents first," she said, and his eyes widened a little at her statement. Almost as if he was surprised that she needed to ask her parents. She felt her face heat up, though this time, the unbidden embarrassment made her feel a little indignant. _Was it weird that she needed to ask her parents_? "But if you call me later, or tomorrow, I can let you know," she said quickly.

Seiya nodded and smiled, "I will definitely call you, Usagi-san," he said softly before he turned away. With a final wave, he left the arcade with his friends.

She watched him go, a mixture of strange emotions churning through her; excitement that she'd been asked out on a date, an odd, uncomfortable, nervous feeling, and confusion. She shrugged as she turned back to the counter. She'd talk to Mamoru about it later. He was always her voice of reason.

She was so lost in her thoughts, that it took her a moment before she focused on her friend's expressions. Makoto and Motoki were staring at her with identical looks of horrified shock on their faces, and Ami regarded her with a soft, knowing smile.

Her brows drew together, and she froze. "What?" she demanded. Did she have something on her face? "Why are you guys looking at me like that?"

Makoto slowly shook her head. "You aren't seriously considering going on a date with that guy?" She asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Usagi's frown deepened. "I was thinking about it," she responded with a bit of curt defensiveness in her tone. Wasn't Makoto the one that was always telling her she should open her eyes to the boys around her? Start thinking about dating?

Makoto exchanged a knowing look with Motoki, before turning back towards her with an amused half-smile on her lips. "Mamoru-san is not going to like that, Usagi-chan," she said slowly, her words filled with a deliberate warning that confused her to no end. Mamo-chan _was_ a bit overprotective, but surely he wouldn't be upset.

She scoffed and waved dismissively as she bounced back onto the swivel stool, thankfully didn't stumble, and pulled her half-melted milkshake towards her. "I don't know what you're talking about, Mako-chan," she sniffed, thoroughly irritated by the continued disbelieving looks emanating from her friends. _Why_ was everyone acting _so_ strange today _?!_

"Is Mamoru the guy you always talk about, Usagi-chan?" Ami questioned softly from beside her. Usagi sometimes forgot how new Ami was to the group. It was strange to know that one of her friends had never met Mamo-chan. Especially Ami, who was actually _a lot_ like Mamoru, personality-wise, anyway. It felt like she'd been friends with the soft-spoken, intelligent girl forever.

Makoto's gaze snapped over to Ami, and she chuckled as she leaned forward and clasped the blunette's wrist. "Come on, I'll tell you all about him while I destroy you in Sailor V," she quipped lightly, and Ami gasped as she was pulled away from the counter and into the intermingling Arcade machines placed in a seemingly haphazard manner throughout the room.

Usagi shook her head, still bewildered as she watched them go, then turned back towards the counter, only to freeze under Motoki's irritated glare.

She sighed, rolled her eyes and shook her head. She was done trying to decipher her friend's strange behavior today. " _What,_ Motoki?" she demanded with irritation and pushed the half-empty glass away from her with a frown.

He seemed to study her for a moment, carefully considering his words, before he spoke. "Usagi-chan, you can't go out with that guy. Please tell me you aren't _seriously_ considering it _,"_ he demanded reproachfully, his tone filled with a note of censure that she did _not_ appreciate.

Her face flushed, and her eyes flashed with indignant anger. "Actually, I am!" she snapped, her tone curt, though it was tinged with the hurt feeling that curled up involuntarily in her chest. Did they think she couldn't handle going on a date? Did they think she wasn't suited to go out with a boy like Seiya? "Why do you even care, Motoki? It's none of your business!" She reprimanded furiously, though she instantly regretted the harshly muttered words. She was not in the habit of arguing with her friends.

Motoki's eyes widened, with a stricken expression on his face, he shook his head and averted his gaze. She grimaced guiltily as she noted the red that tinged his cheeks as he busied himself with wiping down some glasses. "You're right, Usagi-chan. It's none of my business," he muttered, and all she could do was nod her head in response.

They both fell silent, and Usagi swallowed at the strange awkwardness that fell in between them as she nervously pretended to pluck invisible pieces of lint from her shirt. She was contemplating just getting up and leaving when he spoke again.

"You know," he murmured softly, and her eyes met his gaze. Warm-brown eyes filled with a sympathetic look she didn't understand. "Mamoru had a really important meeting with an admissions advisor from Keio University last night. Judging by the fact that he stayed home to study with you, I'm assuming he didn't go," Motoki said softly.

Though his tone wasn't accusing, more of a gentle admission, it still felt like she'd been struck. Her face whitened, and she inhaled sharply. Mamoru had missed an important appointment with a university to help her study? She recalled, then, the way he'd been dressed when she'd burst into his apartment. How he'd been wearing his coat, about to walk out the door. The guilt and dismay churned almost painfully in the pit of her stomach. _Why hadn't he told her?_

She felt like she might cry as her rounded blue eyes, gleaming painfully, met Motoki's regretful gaze. "Motoki," she breathed and shook her head in disbelief. "I didn't know," she whispered, as she automatically lifted her hands, palms up, in supplication.

Motoki smiled sadly and sighed. "I know Usagi-chan, it's not your fault," he reassured. "He should have told you."

oOo


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Hello everyone! Gah! Thank you so much to my reviewers, favouriters and followers! It means the world to know that you guys are loving this! It motivates me like crazy!

Okay, I just wanted to let you guys know a couple of things based on some feedback/hopes for this story, that I received. So, as you guys have noted, this is a slow burn. Very slow, and my versions of the characters in this story are well meaning, but fundamentally flawed- for sure! I promise you though, that it will be worth it in the end! Also I should probably let you guys know, that I actually don't hate Seiya? GAH! Don't flame me! I swear I wholly believe that UsaxMamo are the OTP, however, just so you guys know- he is not going to be a villain in this story. And while I enjoy a little bit of jealousy and possessiveness from Mamoru internally - that is also not going to play a huge part in this story.

Hopefully you still like the decisions I made! We are half way through now!

Shout out to my Bae-ta beauties, **Ninjette Twitch** _and_ **Revy679.**

 **Ninjette Twitch** has this super cute fic called _**If you only knew**_ **,** in the works. She just posted a new chapter today, and its amazing! You should check it out!

Okay! Hope you like the next chapter! If you do? Please review!

 **Chapter 5**

Sensei Saito's office was admittedly the smallest office in Moto Azabu high school. It was just a tiny room tucked away behind the main office, with a sensible oak desk and relatively comfortable green cushioned chairs in front of it. Mamoru noted, on more than one occasion, that his sensei was tidy and organized. An array of books was stacked neatly on a small shelf pressed against neutral-coloured walls at the back of the room, and a cork board with notices, after-school programs, and University preparatory courses hung on the wall beside the desk, where every sheet of paper and every writing utensil was carefully placed.

Mamoru grimaced as he stepped over the threshold into the room, and carefully made his way towards the lone window that offered a full view of the parking lot. Despite the sunlight that washed into the office, and brightly lit up the clean and well-polished surfaces, he felt like he'd stepped into a claustrophobic cage. He cleared his throat nervously and loosened his collar in an attempt to lessen the stifling feeling that was beginning to overwhelm him.

He knew why Sensei Saito had called him in here, and he was dreading the conversation that he was undoubtedly about to have. He knew that his high school advisor had gone to great lengths to arrange an early meeting with the admissions advisor for Keio University. It was to have been a pre-interview that would have guaranteed his acceptance.

He sighed and raked a hand through his unkempt hair. He _shouldn't_ have missed it. He'd been on the verge of stepping out the door of his apartment when Usako had shown up, flustered, wide-eyed, and so adorable with her pleas for help. _How could he have said no?_

At that moment, there had been nothing more important than helping her pass the test for the subject he'd scolded her for dismissing way too often. Usagi was so intelligent, but there was no denying that she would never dominate academically in school.

Truthfully, he didn't give a damn if she failed every single one of her classes. There was so much more to Usagi than test scores, and sometimes, he wished he possessed even an ounce of her brightness, rather than the abilities he'd been granted with.

The sound of the doors spring loaded latch popping as it opened promptly pulled him from thoughts of the blonde, compassionate whirlwind that made up his Usako and his gaze snapped towards the noise.

Sensei Saito was a short, black-haired man, with a slight hunch, frail features and horn-rimmed glasses perched on the tip of his nose. His expression was always severe, serious, and often-times his lips were pursed as if he'd just bit into a lemon. Despite his slightly terrifying disposition, Mamoru greatly respected the man that had taken a special interest in him and his academic advancement.

Which was why he inwardly cringed at the disappointed look that graced his wrinkled features as he tilted his head forward, and peered at him over the top of his glasses. "Chiba-san, please," he said, his voice serious and steady as he gestured towards the seat in front of his desk. "Take a seat," he ordered, and Mamoru nodded and took the two strides to the green cushioned chair, carefully lowering himself to sit.

Mamoru did his best to keep his expression impassive as Saito slowly ambled around the desk, and with a sigh, lowered himself to sit across from him.

It was silent as the advisor leaned over, and pulled at the handle of his desk drawer. It made a swishing sound as it slid open, and the advisor ruffled through its contents for a moment before he pulled out a manila-coloured folder that he carefully placed on his desk. He closed the desk drawer, and Mamoru internally winced as it shut with a forceful sounding snap.

Saito cleared his throat as he opened the folder and, in a slow, deliberate motion, perused the paper contents. Mamoru knew that the Sensei was less than pleased, and so he settled back into the chair and patiently waited for him to speak.

He didn't have to wait long. Saito did not glance up from the papers as he spoke. "I'm not sure there is a need to tell you how disappointed I was to hear that you did not make your appointment, Chiba-san," he stated, and though his tone of voice did not change, Mamoru noted the slight shake of his head. "However," he glanced up from the paper, and his piercing blue eyes met his gaze. "I'm not your father, and so I am inclined to move on from this," he said curtly and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger. "You can certainly still apply to Keio University, though I fear the damage done is irreversible," he sighed, and his voice broke for the first time with regret.

Mamoru swallowed and nodded solemnly. "I understand, Sensei," he murmured regretfully, and really, he truly was sorry. Though, if he had to go back in time, he would more than likely make the same decision again.

Saito sighed, and his brow furrowed as he straightened his shoulders, leaned back in his chair and carefully scrutinized him. "Well, either way, many opportunities are open to you," he reassured, his tone brisk and filled with confidence. Mamoru frowned as the advisor's eyes lit up brightly, and he swore that he saw the wisp of a smile form momentarily on his well-weathered lips as the Sensei leaned forward again, clasped his hands together and propped them onto his desk. "I have just received a notice that there is a special program that has just opened up specifically for international students looking to attend Harvard University," he began, and Mamoru thought that he detected a note of excitement laced in his tone.

Mamoru's frown deepened as the advisor's words registered. "I apologize for the interruption, Sensei, but are you referring to Harvard school in _America?_ " He questioned, his tone tinged with disbelief. There was not a chance in hell he was leaving Usagi, and the Tsukino's to attend a school in an English-speaking country overseas.

The advisor nodded "Yes, Chiba-san. You scored 1590 on your SAT. Your TOEFL results were extraordinary, and you have a 4.5 GPA average," he said, listing off Mamoru's accomplishments proudly. "Though your extracurricular activities are a little lacking, there is still time to rectify that. Chiba-san, I think that you are the perfect candidate for this program and I am fully prepared to recommend you to the board that will all submit stellar recommendation letters," he said with enthusiasm in his voice that Mamoru had never heard before. "This is an amazing opportunity that I think you would be foolish to turn down. It's rare that a prestigious and competitive American school offers a select group exclusive acceptance with a full scholarship," he said with conviction.

Mamoru's mind was admittedly whirring with the information, though, he knew that he didn't need to think about it. He was perfectly content with the schools here in Tokyo. He was not interested. He opened his mouth to politely but firmly decline when he was interrupted by Saito that raised his hand and shook his head.

"I want you to think about this, Chiba-san. The deadline for application is not due for weeks still," he said and leaned over to snap the manilla folder shut. "I want you to think about all of the doors that would open up for you. You would be free to attend any medical school you choose," he added, though he sighed sadly as his gaze perused Mamoru's face and undoubtedly noted the resounding no etched into his features.

With a grunt, Saito leaned forward and leveraged the desk to push his body into a standing position. Mamoru quickly followed suit. "In the meantime, while you think about it, I will arrange an interview with Tokyo Universities admissions office," he said and moved slowly towards the door. "I believe that was your second choice?" he questioned with resignation, blue eyes peering over the rims of his glasses.

Mamoru nodded respectfully. "Yes, Sensei," he replied. "I would be very content with Tokyo University."

Saito sighed again, and Mamoru was sure that the severe advisor suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "Very well, Chiba-san," he murmured. "I believe your next class starts in two minutes. I'll see you next week," he said and leaned forward, clasped the flat edged silver handle and pulled the door open for him.

With a respectful bow, Mamoru left the office and made his way to his next class. He couldn't lie to himself and say that the opportunity that Saito had presented to him didn't tempt and thrill him in equal parts. He'd worked very hard to be afforded an opportunity like this, and he knew that the pull to challenge himself by attending a school overseas should have been irrevocably irresistible.

He smiled softly and buried his hands in his pockets as she strode down the hallway. The pull for Harvard university _was_ irresistible. However, the pull towards a beautiful bright-eyed, odangoed blonde and her loving family, _his_ loving family, was stronger.

oOo

He was on his way to the arcade, feeling strangely exhausted after a long day at school when his phone pinged. It was a text message from Usagi; ' _Mamo-chan! Not at the arcade, heading to your apartment with a surprise! Come home after school!'_ Which was promptly followed by a winky face, a heart and rabbit emoji. He stopped and stared at his phone with a stupid smile on his face, a ridiculous lopsided grin at the words ' _come home'_ splayed out on his screen, that he momentarily forgot where he was.

However, he'd _also_ managed to stop in the middle of foot traffic on the sidewalk, and an overly aggressive pedestrian, with a scowl on his sullen face, knocked into him and jolted him out of his daze.

Usagi was impulsive, unpredictable, and so he had no idea what to expect as he inserted his key into the slot of his apartment door. He rolled his eyes, shook his head with an exasperated sigh when the key turned without resistance, which was an indication that Usagi hadn't locked the door behind her.

He turned the handle and swiftly stepped into the brightly lit genkan, where he immediately froze, rooted into place, at the sight in front of him. He'd expected a hundred different things; he'd half expected to come home to a new pet goat with a red bow tied around its neck, but not _this._

His breath caught, almost painfully, in his throat, and his heart began to race furiously in his chest because the sight of her was _torture. Damn_ , it was pure blissful _torture_.

She was on the couch, her endlessly long legs thrown over the back of the headrest, as she hung upside down over the edge of the seat. Her head hung inches above the floor, and her golden tresses of silky blonde hair splayed out over the carpet as she read an issue of the Manga she kept tucked away in his apartment.

That position, in itself, was not an unusual one for Usagi. What _was_ unusual was the way her pink pleated skirt bunched up at her hips and revealed the tops of bare thighs. If _that_ wasn't enticing enough, she was wearing _his_ shirt; his white button-up shirt that had apparently been hastily done up because she'd missed a button and the seams did not align up evenly. It, too, was a victim of gravity as it bunched up at her waist and left an inch of her smooth-skinned abdomen exposed.

He internally groaned; she was _killing_ him. He was sure the sight of her, like that, was _literally_ going to kill him. What made his throat constrict, and his heart clench even more tightly, though, was the knowledge that his sweet little Usako had _no idea_ how beautiful she was. She was so damn innocent, it made him want to pull her into his arms, cover her up with a blanket and shield her from all of the monsters in the world.

The door finally snapped shut behind him with a resounding thud that echoed loudly throughout the room. It startled Usagi, and she promptly dropped her Manga onto the floor. She grinned widely, a dazzling upside-down smile, as she caught sight of him. "Mamo-chan! You're home!" she exclaimed, and those words intensified his feelings that felt like they might coil around his heart and squeeze the life from him.

Her slender hands grasped the edge of the cushions on either side of her hips as she leveraged them to pull herself upright. In one swift movement, she'd swung her legs back onto the couch seat, twisted her body around, and hopped up into a standing position.

She swayed dizzily as her skirt slid down the length of her legs and back into place. "Whoa," she giggled, and shook her head. "Head rush!" she exclaimed, and her ensuing smile was _breathtaking._

He closed his eyes for a quick second and took a deep breath before meeting her gaze. "Usako," he questioned, and his voice was involuntarily raspy. He promptly cleared his throat. "Why are you wearing my shirt?" he asked, and though he meant to sound reproachful, he couldn't help the tender amusement that seeped into his tone.

Usagi's grin widened, and she shrugged nonchalantly. "Because," she began brightly, "Mine is in the washing machine." She explained in a matter of fact tone, as if the reason was the most obvious thing in the world, as she swivelled back around, leant down and plucked her Manga off the ground. She bounced back onto the couch and slightly stumbled as she settled into a comfortable sitting position where she _began to read again._

He couldn't help the disbelieving chuckle that bubbled up in his throat and spilled from his mouth as he stepped into the living room, and shook his head. "Usako?" he questioned with exasperation, though, truthfully, he was thoroughly delighted by her ridiculous antics.

She glanced up at him, tilted her head to the side, with a questioning smile on her face. "Yes, Mamo-chan?" She asked, and blinked up at him innocently.

He raised a questioning brow expectantly. When she continued to stare at him without responding, he sighed loudly. " _Why_ is your shirt in the washing machine?" He asked, and took another step towards her, as he was confident enough now that he would be able to control the urge to pull her into his arms.

She immediately dropped her manga, and, with a dramatic sigh, pulled her legs beneath her so that she was kneeling on the couch. "So, here's the thing," she began, and judging by the intense look on her face, and the way she pursed her pink bubblegum lips, he knew he was in for one of her rants. He grinned and patiently crossed his arms.

"I wanted to surprise you Mamo-chan, just like I said in the text message," she began, and she was already waving her arms animatedly with each word she spoke. "So, I ran all the way to that restaurant. You know the American one that we found that one time? New new York Club?" She asked, and tilted her head forward with round blue eyes filled with expectant excitement. He wasn't sure if this was one of those times she actually wanted him to answer, so he opted to merely nod instead.

She smiled brightly in response. "It's the place that has those rainbow coloured bagels, with the sugar cream cheese? Oh! Mamo, remember the time that we-"

This time he did interrupt her tangent. "Usako," he chided gently.

She graced him with a sheepish smile and waved her hands in the air. "Right, right!" she exclaimed, with a quick shake of her head. "Anyways, I went all the way there because I know they have that special drip coffee… the dark roast that I know you love," she said sweetly, and his heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in her eyes. "Because, well, you helped me study, and I'm pretty sure I did great on my test yesterday, Mamo-chan. I wanted to do something nice-" she murmured, as she tilted her head to the side. "Well, I got you the coffee Mamo-chan, but then, ugh," she said and closed her eyes with a theatrical sigh.

"Well, then I tripped-" she whispered, indignant horror laced into her voice, her cheeks tinged an enticing pink colour.

He couldn't suppress his chuckle. " _Of course you did,"_ he interjected and her forehead creased into a frown.

She graced him with a scolding scowl, as she promptly ignored the interruption. " _I tripped,_ " she repeated firmly. "And, Mamo-chan! It spilled all over my shirt!" She exclaimed and bounced up onto her knees with an exaggerated flourish. "And it was the pink shirt, Mamo-chan. The one with the little red roses that you bought me for my birthday," she said and fell back onto the couch, and exhaled an almost exhausted puff of air. "So you see why I had to wash it _right away,_ and your apartment was closer than home," she finished, throwing her head back into the armrest as she stretched out her legs and threw an arm over her eyes in a dramatic manner.

He could tell by the quirk of her lips that she was being playful, and he chuckled as he twisted around and fell onto the couch at her feet. "And anyway, Mamo-chan," she said, her voice slightly muffled by her arm. "I like your shirt - it kind of smells like you."

It was his turn to throw his head back onto the headrest with a groan that he couldn't suppress in time. _She was killing him._ His eyes were clenched tightly shut, so he only heard the rustling sound of fabric and felt the shift of the couch cushions as she moved, but they flew open as the silk curls at the top of her head tickled his cheek as the weight of her head leaned onto his shoulder.

With a sigh, he lifted his arm, wrapped it around her waist and pulled her closer. A mixture of lavender and vanilla assaulted his senses, as she curled up comfortably beside him.

It was silent for a moment, as he tried to banish all thoughts of telling her that he loved her from his brain when she sighed softly. He frowned because this was not an Usagi-like dramatic or playful sigh. This was a quiet, sad sigh; a sound that he rarely heard from her.

"Mamo-chan," she whispered, and his heart skipped a beat because her tone was unusually serious.

He lifted his chin from the top of her head and pulled back slightly so that he could peer down at her. "What's wrong, Usako?" He questioned tenderly.

She pulled away and twisted around so that she could meet his gaze with round, blue eyes, that glistened with a sorrow-filled sadness that he didn't understand. "I'm so sorry you missed your Keio appointment for me," she whispered, and her voice was filled with guilty devastation.

Of _all_ the things that she could have said to him at that moment, _that_ was not what he expected to hear her say.

He inhaled sharply, and he scowled with irritation. Who the hell had told her about the Keio appointment? "Usako," he demanded softly. "Who told you that?"

She averted her gaze and stubbornly remained silent, even as he could see her big blue eyes welling with tears. The only mutual friend that they shared that had been privy to that information was Motoki, and he internally cursed his blond-haired friend for telling Usagi about it. The very last thing he wanted was for her to feel guilty about a decision that he'd been responsible for making.

He tightened his grip around her waist and forced a nonchalant smile onto his face. "Usako," he murmured softly. "I knew it wasn't a big deal. I've already rescheduled it for another time," he reassured her, even though, technically, it was a lie.

Her brows drew together as she studied his expression suspiciously. "Really, Mamo-chan?" she asked, her tone uncertain and unconvinced.

His grin widened, and he nodded with a shrug. "Of course, Usako," he said lightly. "I wouldn't mess up an appointment with Keio. There's no reason for you to feel guilty," he assured her firmly, and it must have sounded convincing because her eyes lit up and a relieved smile spread across her ample lips.

She sighed, happily this time, as she pulled away and fell back onto the other side of the couch. "Ugh, thank God. Mamo-chan," she exclaimed as she curled up onto her side, and reached down to pluck her manga back up from the floor. "I would hate it if I ruined an important opportunity for you," she murmured as she pulled the book open, flipped onto her back and held the manga over her face.

She glanced down at him with another bright smile. "Also, once my shirt is dry, we need to go home for dinner," she demanded haughtily. "Did you even eat today?" She demanded, and he shrugged with a lopsided grin. She rolled her eyes, "Anyways, Mama is not happy that you skipped out twice last week, so you have to come," she said, and he nodded, then leaned his head back onto the couch and smiled as the warmth of her words washed over him.

He was lost in his thoughts, about school, Usagi, and the Tsukino's when he glanced back over at Usa, who was now fast asleep. He watched her for a moment, her chest visibly rising and falling with her steady, even breathing. Her facial features softened, utterly beautiful as black lashes fanned the top of her cheeks.

Everything about her was so sweet and innocent. It was easy to ignore the aching longing that he felt for her when she was asleep like this. It was a reminder that it was because he loved her that he couldn't tell her how he felt. Usako was bright and beautiful. He didn't want anyone to ruin that. Not even himself.

oOo

Though he'd spent many nights, while curled up in threadbare sheets at the Sugimoto's, thinking about the day that he would be able to move out into his own place, in truth, he felt more comfortable at the Tsukino's than he did in his apartment.

He'd lived in their spare bedroom for over a year, and spend the better part of his childhood playing in Usagi's room or in their modestly-sized backyard. So when he walked through the Tsukino's front door behind Usako later that evening to join them for dinner, it honestly felt like he was coming home.

Usako was like a ball of energy after her impromptu nap, and he had a difficult time keeping up with her line of conversation as she bounded into the genkan, pulled off her shoes and bent over to collect their slippers.

She was a flurry of silky blonde hair as she pushed dainty feet into her slippers and graced him with a breathtaking smile. "We're home!" She exclaimed loudly, her tone bright and impossibly cheerful as it echoed around them. He smiled, and with an amused shake of his head, followed her into the living room.

Kenji was on the couch, perched on the edge of the floral-patterned cushion, with a frown fixed firmly onto his face. His head was bent over the iPad that Ikuko had bought him for his birthday, and Mamoru could tell he was getting frustrated by the brisk shake of his head and the tense set of his shoulders.

His fingers tentatively moved over the lit-up screen as he glanced up at them over the top of his thin-rimmed glasses, before he locked his gaze back onto the screen. "Hey, kids," he greeted under his breath, though it was half-hearted as he was clearly distracted. "Sorry, just a minute... I'm trying to figure out -" he sighed with irritation suddenly and straightened his shoulders as he tossed the offending device onto the coffee table. "You know, I'm not sure why I even update that stupid thing. Every time I do, my apps stop working. Why do we even need an iPad? What's wrong with a good old-fashioned book?" He ranted, his tone laced with his barely restrained frustration.

Usagi giggled and skipped the two steps to Kenji, where she leaned over and, as per usual, bent down and placed a loving kiss on his cheek. " _Hi_ , Papa," she greeted, laughter evident in her tone as she ignored his rant.

The corners of Mamoru's lips quirked into a warm smile. "I can take a look at it, if you'd like, Kenji-san," he offered, his tone genuine and filled with his sincere desire to help out.

Usagi's father was the smartest man he knew, but he did have an aversion to technology and was quickly frustrated by the constant changes that accompanied the use of their everyday devices.

Kenji peered up at him with a grateful smile and shrugged. "That's alright, Mamoru. I'm sure I can figure it out," he reassured with a dismissive wave as he leaned forward, propped his hands on his knees and stood. He smiled warmly as he fixed his gaze onto Mamoru. "How's school? Usa-chan isn't bothering you too much, is she?" He questioned with a mock-stern look that he directed towards his daughter, whose face had turned a lovely, yet indignant, shade of red.

She huffed, and he noted with amusement that she stopped herself just before stomping her foot. Mamoru suppressed a chuckle and shrugged with a contrived long-suffering sigh. "You know, Kenji-san. It _is_ difficult most days. She is quite bothersome, but I manage," he replied jokingly with a straight face, though, admittedly, it was difficult not to laugh when Usako's nose and brow scrunched up into an annoyed scowl.

There was a twinkle in Kenji's eyes, and a half-smirk on his lips when he nodded his understanding. "I can certainly understand your suffering," he said conspiratorially, as he leaned closer to Mamoru, and winked.

Usagi did stomp her foot then, and he couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips. "Ugh! You two are worse than Shingo!" She snapped. "School was _good_ for me, _by the way,_ papa!" She sniffed haughtily, and with a proud lift of her chin, she crossed her arms and imperiously turned away. "Not that you asked," she muttered under her breath, and Kenji laughed and ruffled his daughter's hair.

Mamoru smiled as Usagi's tensed stance softened, and the corners of her lips twitched into a quick smile. Moments like these were some of his favourites with the Tsukino's. It had mesmerized him when he was young, and though he didn't have any memories of his parents, he liked to imagine that the playful banter, the tenderness and the love between the Tsukino's was something his parents had done with him, too. He had frequently pretended that he was a _part_ of their family, until one day, he hadn't needed to pretend anymore.

"Oh! Mamoru, darling! I'm so glad you're here!" He turned towards the doorway in time to see lavender-haired Ikuko step into the living room, clad in a lacy white-apron with a full, welcoming grin on her face.

He smiled back warmly and nodded in greeting. "Of course, Ikuko-mama. I'm sorry I missed dinner last week. School has been consuming a fair bit of my time," he stated apologetically.

Ikuko frowned, her expression practically identical to what Usagi's had been just moments ago. "Nonsense!" She scoffed and waved a scolding finger at him. "Look at you! You've lost weight! You mustn't forget to eat, Mamoru," she chastised then stepped to the side and waved them all into the dining room.

Usagi giggled as she skipped ahead of them. "Don't worry, Mama, I make sure he eats!" she chimed brightly, then glanced over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow. "Even when he's being annoying about it!" She quipped, and he smirked, choosing not to reply, as he followed behind them.

Kenji laughed and offered him an apologetic look, and a shrug of his shoulders. It was a look he'd seen many times; a silently conveyed message that stated that there was no point in arguing with them.

He nodded with a contrived look of solemn understanding and a half-smile; honestly, the Tsukino's were the most important people in his life, and he admired the doting way with which they treated each other more than anything else. His gaze fell onto Usagi's lithe figure as she stumbled into one of the dining room table chairs, and he felt the heat rise up his neck. Well, _almost_ more than anything else.

They settled into their usual places at the table. "Speaking of _annoying_ , Mama," Usagi began as she took the dish of kimchi okonomiyaki that Ikuko handed her. She wobbled a little, and Mamoru immediately reached out to take the serving plate from her unsteady hand and placed it on the table. "Where's Shingo?" Usagi questioned as she fell back into her chair that was directly across from him.

Mamoru carefully lifted the delicious pancake-styled food, and just like he did most nights that he came for dinner, he began to serve the food by carefully doling out portions onto their plates.

Ikuko settled into her chair and graced him with a doting smile, which he reciprocated. "Shingo is having dinner with the Takahashi's this evening," she replied, and Usagi snorted as she began to eat.

He remained mostly silent after that. Usako liked to talk, and he liked to listen to her and her parents go over her day. Though, sometimes he got distracted from what she was saying by the way her eyes lit up brightly with her excitement, the pink flush that adorably coloured her cheeks or the sheer amount of times she smiled.

Ikuko cleared her throat, an indulgent smile on her lips, as she interrupted Usagi mid-rant. "I almost forgot. The Takahashi's mentioned that they needed a babysitter for their daughter Friday," she stated, and Usagi glanced up quickly and swallowed a mouthful of food as her blonde brows drew together into a frown. "Can I tell them that you'll do it, darling?" She questioned softly, with an inquisitive tilt of her head.

Usagi mirrored her mother's movement and tilted her head to the side, a contemplative frown deepening on her brow. "Ma _ma_ ," She said, as her tone slightly rose into a whine-like octave. "Friday night is movie night with Mamo-chan," she complained and scrunched up her nose in dismay.

His heart skipped a beat, and a warm smile spread across his face at her words. It was, admittedly, something they tried to do every week. "Usako, we can reschedule-" he began, and she gasped and dramatically wiggled her finger in the air, with an arched brow, to interrupt him.

"No _way_ , Mamo-chan!" She exclaimed in disbelief. "You're only saying that because it's _my_ turn to pick the movie this week!" She exclaimed firmly, in a manner that left no room for argument.

He offered Ikuko an apologetic smile and a sheepish shrug.

Ikuko rolled her eyes skyward with exasperation, "Usagi, you can still do your movie night," she said with a long-suffering sigh. "It would only _be_ for two or three hours after school. Her parents would pick her up right after dinner," she replied, and it was almost comical the way Usagi soundlessly opened her mouth to protest.

She snapped it shut with a sigh, deflated and resigned. "Ughhhh!" She groaned, "Fiiiine!" She said with a typically dramatic, Usagi-like flair.

Ikuko nodded her approval, and they all turned back to their respective meals when Usagi suddenly gasped. "Oh!" She exclaimed, her eyes round, and her blush deepening. "I forgot, Mama. I actually _can't_ do it. I have that dinner date with Seiya on Friday!" She exclaimed. It took a moment for the words to register, but when they did, he froze mid-bite. His heart stopped, and his breath caught painfully in his throat. Dinner date with _who?_

Ikuko frowned, and she tilted her head to the side and tapped a slender index finger over her lips as she thought about it. "Oh, that's right," she murmured, "I completely forgot that you asked me about that yesterday," she murmured quietly.

He glanced from Usagi's bright-eyed expression to Ikuko's slightly dismayed one with a building horror in the pit of his stomach. _When the hell had this happened?_ How could he have possibly missed Usagi being asked out on a date? The idea that she'd not only been asked out but had already said _yes_ made his stomach churn violently.

It was irrational, and this was his own fault for keeping the feelings he had for her to himself, but he was suddenly furious. She wasn't _ready_ to go on a date with some _guy_!

His chopsticks, almost of their own accord, slipped from his fingers and clattered onto his plate loudly. Three pairs of eyes turned to face him, and by the array of concern reflected in their gazes, he knew his expression mirrored _precisely_ what he felt.

"Mamo-chan?" Usagi questioned softly, her tone laced with concern. "Are you okay?"

He shook his head, swallowing around the painful lump of anger in his throat as he forcibly regained control of his emotions. "What dinner date, Usa?" He demanded and internally cringed at the hoarseness of his tone.

Ikuko and Kenji exchanged knowing looks as Usagi's brows drew together in confusion. "What?" She asked, her expression bewildered, as she tilted her head to the side.

Maybe he was wrong. It might not be _that_ kind of date. "You said that you had a dinner date," he questioned, and his words were enunciated and deliberately slow. " _What_ dinner date?"

Usagi's eyes widened, and she blinked twice and _smiled_. "Oh!" She exclaimed. "It's Minako's friend, Mamo-chan. The one that wanted my number," she said brightly, and it felt like she'd twisted a knife into his heart. "I met him at the Arcade," her bright expression faded into another frown. "I'm sure I told you, Mamo-chan," she said nonchalantly with a shrug as she turned back to her plate.

He shook his head slowly, because, he knew that it wasn't her fault. She couldn't possibly _know_ how much it hurt him. But he couldn't _help_ but feel unreasonably angry. "You didn't tell me," he snapped, and he knew his tone was harsh and condemning. _Why_ couldn't he stop himself?

She looked confused and stricken as she shook her head. "Mamo, I'm _sure_ I told you. Remember-" she began with conviction, but he harshly interrupted her.

"You didn't," he spat fiercely, and damn, he hated the fury evident in his tone.

He could tell by the way her shoulders tensed, and her brow furrowed, that she was beginning to get defensive. And of course, she was. He sounded like a damn crazy person.

"Okay," she snapped, and he could detect the anger in her voice now. "I have a date with Minako's friend, Seiya Kou, on Friday," she said slowly, with the same deliberate tone that he'd used. " _Satisfied?"_ She demanded and placed her palms flat on the surface of the table as she leaned over and glared at him.

Like a petulant child, he _snorted_ and opened his mouth to retort. Luckily, he had enough common sense left in him to snap his stupid mouth shut and tear his angry gaze away from her. With a clenched jaw and shaking hands, he picked his chopsticks back up, and forcibly poked at his food.

There was a tense, awkward silence that fell over the room, and Ikuko cleared her throat with a nervous laugh. "Well, Usagi, Mamoru," She said, and he noted, with regret, that she'd injected an overly cheerful tone into her voice to compensate for the tension. "I made your favourite dessert. Castella cakes! would you like some?"

He glanced up from his plate, and let his gaze fall onto Usagi. Her face was flushed, and she was still glaring at him, though it was admittedly filled with more confusion than anger.

He shouldn't have said _anything._ But the idea of Usagi going out with another boy infuriated him, and not just because _he_ wanted to be her first date, but because she wasn't ready to go out with some random, stupid guy. What if he tried something? She wouldn't have a clue. Not until it was too late.

"Yes, sure, Mama. Thank you," she responded, barely paying attention to her mother as her gaze was still firmly fixed onto him. He watched as an array of facial expressions flashed over her delicate features before her expression hardened, and the pink tinge in her cheeks furiously reddened. "What is your problem, Mamo-chan? Why are you so angry?" She demanded suddenly, her gaze steady as she locked it onto his.

The question caught him off guard, and again, he felt the overprotective, jealous feelings that he'd tried to stamp down bubble back up at the look on her face. He couldn't tell her the real reason why he was mad. Truthfully, he was well aware of the fact that he didn't have any right to be angry, but he couldn't help it.

He should have said nothing, or apologized, or gotten up and _walked_ away. But he had no common sense when it came to Usagi, apparently, and it didn't matter that he had a 4.5 GPA average. It wouldn't have mattered if he was a certified genius. At that moment, he was an idiot.

"I'm not angry, Usa," he snapped, his tone clearly indicating otherwise. "I knew you were irresponsible, but I thought you had more sense than to go on a _date_ with some _random_ that _Minako,_ of all people, set you up with!" He said, regretting every single stupid word the minute they left his mouth. "I mean, do you want to give your dad a heart attack?"

He hated himself as he watched her eyes widen, her lips part in shock as she gasped furiously, and the way her face paled at his harshly spoken words.

Kenji cleared his throat from the end of the table. "Well, actually, Mamoru. I did give her permission," he interjected, his tone soft, and almost nervous sounding.

Mamoru and Usagi's gazes remained angrily fixed onto each other, angry sparks blazing between them, so Kenji's words barely registered.

" _What?_ " Usagi hissed, ignoring her father. " _Irresponsible?"_ She breathed the word in hoarse disbelief. "What is your problem with Minako, Mamoru? _You_ don't have any say in who I chose to associate with! In fact, maybe I shouldn't associate _with you!"_

Her words pierced through him, and his heart stopped as they effectively cooled his raging temper. The blood drained from his face as he took a shaky breath and realized with horror that he'd just had a jealousy-induced breakdown, and hurt Usagi's feelings, right in front of her _parents_.

His stomach churned with the realization that he was out of control. He needed to get a grip on this, or he was going to lose everything. He shakily ran a hand through his hair and stood abruptly. The chair scraped across the floor with his abrupt movement as all three pairs of eyes followed him. Kenji and Ikuko with sympathetic looks and Usagi's still blazing fire.

He cleared his throat, his face burning hotly as he turned to her parents. "I think it's best if I go. Mama-Ikuko, Kenji-san, I apologize for my outburst," he whispered, his tone laced with embarrassment. His eyes fell onto Usagi remorsefully, "Usako…" he trailed off miserably at the sight of tears welling in her eyes.

"Just go," she whispered raspily, and he nodded remorsefully in response. He'd done enough damage for one day.

"Mamoru, darling. If you have to leave, please take some dessert with you," Ikuko said, her tone pleading and filled with sorrow.

He offered her a grateful smile but shook his head. "Thank you, but I should be going now," he politely declined. "Goodnight, Usa," he whispered mournfully.

It was a blur, leaving the house, but when the cold night air hit his face, it brought him back to his senses, and with a groan of despair, he buried his head in his hands.

This would have inevitably happened, and he needed to make a decision. He was going to need to come to terms with this, or he was going to lose Usagi forever.

oOo

The only indication that Mamoru had left was the sound of the front door softly shutting with a barely audible click that echoed throughout the genkan and into the dining room where they sat in stunned silence.

Ikuko glanced down at her daughter who was red-faced, confused and trembling with angry tears in her eyes. She sighed softly, a knowing look on her face as she tentatively reached a hand out to cover Usagi's clenched fist that shook as her fingers flexed angrily on the surface of the table.

The gentle touch effectively softened her daughters tensed muscles, and Usagi sniffled miserably as she crumpled forward. "This will pass, honey," Ikuko whispered sympathetically. "Mamoru, well he," she stopped, bit her lip, and glanced up at Kenji for some help. He grimaced and shook his head, also at a loss for words. She rolled her eyes at her less-than-helpful husband, then gently laid a comforting hand on Usagi's shoulder. "He just cares a great deal for you, Usagi," she reassured softly.

Usagi snorted angrily through her tears. "Whatever, mama. I don't even care!" She snapped, and pulled away, her shoulders tensed again as she abruptly stood.

Ikuko could only watch helplessly as her daughter furiously swiped at the tears that had rolled down her cheeks, as she proudly jutted out her chin. "I just want to go to sleep, and I don't want to think about that stupid baka anymore!" she exclaimed, and like the whir that she usually was, she twisted her body, stumbled, before steadying herself and making her way around the table.

Ikuko sighed and, in a more graceful manner, followed suit, and stood to follow her daughter. "Usagi, I really think you need to think about this for just a moment-" she began, but her daughter was not in the mood to listen, and Ikuko could only watch as she flew up the stairs. Her long tresses of golden hair trailing behind her.

The lavender-haired mother propped her hands onto her hips, a frown on her face, and her gaze still fixed onto the spot that Usagi had disappeared. Ikuko knew her daughter well, and she knew, without a doubt, that Usagi was in love with Mamoru Chiba. The ebony-haired boy, that had stolen her heart the first day she'd met him when he'd stepped into her hospital room on Shingo's birthday, broken-hearted and wary loved Usagi, too. Though she knew that Usagi was not yet aware that she felt this way, while poor sweet Mamoru was _very_ aware of his feelings for her, painfully so. It was so clearly evident in the way that he watched her bright-eyed daughter with a longing that tugged at her heartstrings.

She exhaled deeply and turned back towards her husband, that had since made his way into the living room and pulled out a paper to read. Ikuko gasped with irritation. "Kenji!" She snapped reproachfully; her eyes narrowed on him with undisguised disapproval.

He glanced up from his paper and raised an eyebrow in startled confusion. "What?" he asked, puzzled by the irritated expression on her face.

She shook her head and vehemently gestured a hand towards the stairs. "Did you not just witness the same thing that I did?" she snapped, her cheeks reddening with annoyance.

The confused look melted off of Kenji's face and was replaced with a half-smile and a glimpse of understanding in his eyes. He nodded and lifted the paper back in front of his face. "Stay out of it, Ikuko," he murmured half-heartedly, his nonchalant voice muffled behind the pages.

She gasped with disbelief. "You can't be serious, Kenji!" she sputtered, "Did you see the look on poor Mamoru's face? I think perhaps that…" she trailed off, chewing her lower lip in contemplation with narrowed eyes glancing from Kenji to the stairs.

Kenji sighed and lowered his paper once again. " 'Ko, they'll figure it out," he said softly, his tone filled with conviction. "Mamoru has a solid head on his shoulders and our daughter… well," he leaned back into the couch, carefully considering his words. "Well, darling. She's a bit like you," he stated in an almost apologetic tone, though his knowing look turned into a regretful cringe at Ikuko's responding scowl.

She propped her hand on her hip and waved a finger in the air warningly. "You had better _elaborate_ that statement, Kenji Tsukino," she demanded threateningly.

Kenji chuckled nervously and cleared his throat. "I mean to say that our daughter is beautiful, compassionate, _brilliant,"_ he began carefully, and Ikuko rolled her eyes. "However, she's a little bit clueless, darling," he said softly and interrupted Ikuko who opened her mouth to protest. "And when have we _ever_ been successful pushing Usagi into anything?" He questioned, peering over the top of his glasses.

Ikuko's determined stance softened, and her forehead creased into a soft frown of contemplation. _It was true._ Her daughter, though blissfully naive, knew her own mind, and she would not be pushed into anything without being ready.

She sighed with resignation, and her shoulders slumped with disappointment. Ikuko had watched them hopefully for _years_ , and there was no one that she trusted more with her clumsy, forgetful daughter than steady, reliable Mamoru. Whom she loved just as much as her other children. Kenji was right though. Usagi needed to figure this out in her own way.

She glanced back up the stairs and shifted nervously. Still… she _hated_ to see them this way. "Aren't you the least bit worried?" She questioned, her tone tinged with concern as she turned back towards her husband.

Kenji leaned forward, his newspaper rustling with the movement as his brow furrowed. "Worried about what, 'Ko?" He replied with confusion, which elicited an irritated sigh from his lavender-haired wife.

"About the kids!" She exclaimed, "I mean, aren't you worried about this date that she has on Friday?" She demanded because, in truth, _she_ was worried.

Kenji's frown deepened as he narrowed his eyes, lost deep in thought for a moment. The wrinkles on his brow smoothed out suddenly as a small satisfied smile curled onto his lips.

He leaned back and snapped open his paper. "No, I'm not worried, 'Ko," he stated smugly. "It seems to me like Mamoru has the overprotective thing covered."

oOo


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Hello readers! I have a brand new chapter! This one is shorter - but hopefully still fun to read? Okay, guys. I know... Mamoru made a stupid decision... and he will make many, many more as this story progresses. Sorry! The boy has love issues.. you might think I wrote him that way, but let's be serious. He wrote himself. LOL

Anyways! Shout out to my Reviewer, my followers, my favouriters or taking the time to read and follow this silly little fic of mine! THANK YOU!

ALSO, as always, thanks to my pretty bae-tas. **Ninjette Twitch** _(Check out her little fluff-fest!_ If you only knew, ALSO, awesome!) and **Revy679** \- Holy, this girl has a way with words. Gundam Wing fan? Check out her new fic **Resurrection** Girl knows how to produce some feels!

Also, lastly, this update is for you **My** **Indy13** \- because you wanted that Monday bonus chapter! ;)

 **Chapter 6**

It had been two days since she'd spoken to Mamoru, though it was through no fault of his own. She'd been the one to decide to ignore his text messages and his phone calls. She hadn't even listened to the multiple voicemails or bothered to read the notifications that popped up onto her screen. She knew that she would surely crumble and forgive him if she did. So, she'd avoided the arcade and, thankfully, he hadn't shown up at her house for dinner like usual.

With a mournful sigh, she miserably perused through a rack of dresses on sale at a new boutique that had opened up in the mall. Minako had practically dragged her there with the bold statement that retail therapy was all that she needed. Her blonde-haired friend's solution to her despondent mood, as with everything in Minako's life, was to shop.

The drive over had been terrifying, and she could not for the life of her understand how Minako could have _possibly_ passed her drivers test and received her licence. The girl epitomized distracted driving, and more than once, she'd feared for her life.

The corners of her lips quirked into a small smile at the thought, and she shook her head at what Mamoru would say about the fact that she'd even gotten into a car with… Her face instantly fell, and she inwardly cursed, because she hadn't realized before how much space her raven-haired friend took up in her mind until the thought of him suddenly started to become painful. It felt like she'd been in pain _a lot_ in the past two days.

She sighed and pulled a pretty pink ruffled dress from its hanger to absentmindedly inspect it as she reverently ran her fingers over the raised, embroidered roses on its sleeves. She couldn't remember the last time that she'd gone this long without speaking to, or even texting, Mamoru. They never fought, and when they had, it had always been short-lived. She wished it was short-lived this time too, but it couldn't be, because she was _so_ _hurt_.

He'd been unnecessarily harsh at dinner, and his implications that she was just a stupid child incapable of making her own decisions, and not _mature_ enough to go on a date had been so out of character for Mamoru.

She frowned at the memory. Okay, so maybe Mam-chan hadn't explicitly said those specific words out loud, but she was intelligent enough to read between the lines. The thought made hot tears well up in the corners of her eyes again, and she furiously blinked them back as she forcefully shoved the dress back onto its hanger and hung it back up.

 _Stupid baka._ She couldn't even enjoy a shopping expedition at the mall without thinking about him.

They'd passed the book store, and there'd been a girl handing out laminated flyers, a welcoming smile on her face, for some astronomy convention that she _knew_ Mamoru would love. Without even thinking about it, she'd excitedly collected the piece of paper and pulled out her phone to send him a text before she recalled that she was _still mad at him._ Or when she and Minako had stopped at an aisle booth, and taken silly selfies of themselves wearing oversized hats and ridiculous glasses. She'd had to stop herself before she automatically forwarded the picture to him. This whole situation was agonizing, and she couldn't help but miss her best friend, but she was still so _angry._

Slender fingers suddenly poked at her ribs, and she gasped, startled out of her thoughts by Minako who'd snuck up behind her. "Oh my God, Usagi-chan. You're killing me today," she said with a sigh of frustration, narrowed eyes, and an irritated tilt of her head, as she propped a dainty fist onto her hip.

Usagi offered her an apologetic smile and shrugged. "I'm sorry, Mina-chan. I'm just not feeling that great today, I guess," she responded ruefully, and a pink blush tinged her cheeks as she turned back to the dresses in front of her.

Minako sighed loudly _again_ , and Usagi did not have to be looking at her to know that she'd rolled her eyes. "So, this whole moping thing is because you got into a fight with Chiba?" She questioned, as she leaned around Usagi and plucked a very short black dress off of the rack and handed it to her. "Try this one on!" she demanded, and Usagi nearly tripped as she fumbled forward to catch the garment before it hit the ground.

She frowned, "I'm not moping, Mina-chan," she retorted defensively, as she smoothed out the dress and hung it back up.

Mina's eyes narrowed into a contemplative scowl, as she pursed her lips and studied Usagi's face. With a shake of her head, her blonde hair feathering around her shoulders, she pulled the dress back out from where Usagi had stuffed it. "You can't fool me, Usagi-chan," she said firmly, and her eyes lit up brightly as she _once again_ threw the dress into Usagi's arms and pulled her towards the dressing rooms before she could put it away again. "Look, maybe we just need to talk this out," she exclaimed as Usagi barely managed to dodge a woman looking at folded jeans as Minako refused to ease her grip as she forcibly pulled her through the rows of clothes.

Usagi exhaled deeply with irritation as Minako finally stopped, and gently pushed her behind a yellow chevron curtain in a small cubicle with a mirror and a bench pressed against the wall. Usagi only had the time to open her mouth in indignant protest before Minako winked, and slid the curtain shut in her face.

There was a rustle of movement on the other side of the curtain as Minako moved away. "Try that dress on!" she ordered sharply. Usagi glared at the curtain for a moment before her shoulders slumped in resignation and, with a grimace on her face, she carefully lifted the dress that Minako had unceremoniously shoved into her hands to inspect it.

She scrunched her nose with distaste and firmly shook her head. _There was no way_! "It's way too short, Minako!" She snapped and suppressed the urge to stomp her foot.

Minako chuckled from the other side, "Stop being a big baby and try it on," she replied airily. Usagi shook her head in disbelief once again but, after a moment of hesitation, she sighed and began to undress. "So, Chiba gets all riled up at the dinner table because… what? You said you had a date?" Minako questioned loftily, and Usagi frowned.

The very last thing she wanted to do was talk to Minako about Mamo-chan. It wasn't a secret that her two friends weren't exactly fans of each other, but it felt like something painful was pressing down on her chest, and she was desperate to get rid of it. "Yes," she practically hissed as she roughly peeled her jeans off. "You should have heard him, Mina-chan. All haughty, and implying that I was too much of a stupid child to go on a date," she scoffed in disbelief, the memory renewing her anger, as she pulled her T-shirt over her head. Strands of her hair statically stuck to the pink shirt that she tossed onto the bench.

She stepped into the dress and pulled it over her hips when Minako responded, "Usagi-chan, do you really think that's why Chiba was upset? Sounds to me like he has other reasons for being mad," Minako said wryly, her voice muffled sounding through the curtain.

Usagi frowned in confusion as she slipped her arms into the sleeves, and twisted her hands behind her back to zip up the dress that molded perfectly to her curves. She reached up, pulled the curtain aside, and stepped out of the dressing room.

Minako's eyes lit up brightly, and the blonde fashionista practically squealed as she bounced onto the balls of her feet. "Oh! Usagi-chan! That's _perfect!"_ she exclaimed, as Usagi stepped up to the mirror and her bright-eyed friend.

Her gaze was still locked firmly onto Minako's face, though, as she tilted her head to the side, and her brows drew together into an inquisitive frown. "Mina-chan," she demanded, her tone laced with confusion. "What do you mean? What other possible reason could Mamo-chan have to be upset with me?" she questioned, her tone rising an octave in confusion.

Was there something she'd missed? Could she be at fault here?

Minako rolled her eyes and waved her hand dismissively. "Jeez, Usagi-chan," she scoffed. "It's obvious that Chiba is jealous. That boy has got it bad for you," she said matter of factly as she twisted around and fluffed her hair in the reflection of the mirror, though Usagi did not miss the coy smile Minako shot her way.

It was Usagi's turn to roll her eyes. Minako thought that _every_ guy had it bad for her. Mamoru was her best friend. The idea that he had romantic feelings for her was laughable, though, for some reason, the thought that he didn't see her in _that_ way made her even more miserable.

She glared at Minako's face in the reflection of the mirror. "You know, 'the boy has it bad for you' isn't the answer to every problem, Mina-chan," she snapped, though the irritation quickly faded to be replaced with miserable despondency once again.

She swallowed around the lump of emotion that formed in her throat and rapidly blinked back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks once again as she averted her eyes and fiddled with the seam of the black dress that really _was_ too short. "Besides," she whispered hoarsely with a sniffle. "Mamo-chan is my best friend, Mina-chan. It's just not like that for him," she muttered, then risked a glance up at her face in the mirror.

Of course, Mamo-chan wasn't romantically interested in her. That was ridiculous. Her brows drew together though, with the realization that the thought pained her, before firmly shaking her head to clear the intrusive thoughts.

Minako sighed, her eyes locked sympathetically onto Usagi's in the mirror. "Okay," she conceded. "If you say so Usagi-chan." She twisted her slender form around, blonde hair swirling around her shoulders with the movement, before she leaned back against the mirror, and crossed her arms as the corners of her lips quirked up into a comforting smile. "You know, the heart gets absent with love," she said with a self-satisfied nod.

Usagi's eyes narrowed in confusion, and she turned away from staring at her pale, miserable face in the mirror to fix her gaze onto Minako's. "What?" She asked, with a forward tilt of her head.

Minako rolled her eyes in exasperation and stepped away from the mirror. "You know," she began and uncrossed her arms. "That saying!" She exclaimed, as she propped one hand on her hip and flicked her wrist in the air in dramatic, annoyed, Minako-like fashion.

Usagi's frown deepened as she stared at her friend. It took a moment to sort it out in her mind, but when she did, the corners of her lips twitched in amusement as she suppressed a smile. "Do you mean to say, 'absence makes the heart grow fonder'?" She prodded gently, through her tone was laced with laughter.

Minako's grin widened, and it showcased white, dazzling teeth. "Yes!" She exclaimed jovially with an exaggerated nod. "That is exactly what I mean!" She said brightly and skipped the two steps to Usagi, and clasped her shoulders so that she could twist her back towards the mirror. "Girl, you need to get this dress," Minako ordered, and Usagi finally took note of the way the outfit looked on her.

Her eyes widened slightly, and she bit her bottom lip and tilted her head to the side as her eyes perused her figure in the reflection of the mirror. She had to admit that she _did_ look good _._ She rarely wore black, as she'd always preferred bright colours, but _this_ dress, with its plunging neckline that cinched tightly at her waist and hugged the contours of her hips; it highlighted all of her best assets, and it made her look older.

She cleared her throat and tugged at the bottom seam of the dress self-consciously. "Well," she coughed. "It's _different_ ," she whispered, as her cheeks began to radiate warmly with a red-tinged blush.

Minako chuckled, "It's perfect, Usagi-chan," she said excitedly. "Seiya-kun is going to faint when he sees you in this dress," she exclaimed brightly.

Usagi coughed uncomfortably, and her brows creased into a small frown. She'd completely forgotten about Seiya, actually, and anyways, she thought miserably, Mamoru was probably right. She shouldn't be going on this stupid date.

Minako sighed again, and her eyes snapped over to her face. "Usagi-chan, maybe you and Chiba need some time apart. You guys are _always_ together," she said gently, a soft smile on her lips.

She knew that Minako meant to comfort her, but the words were painful. Maybe Mamoru was getting annoyed with her? Perhaps he really _was_ tired of her and her immature tendencies.

She gulped, blinked back another onset of tears and nodded. "Yes, you're probably right, Mina-chan," she murmured, then twisted around and stepped back into the change room.

She slid the curtain shut and deftly unzipped the dress, peeled it off of her torso and wiggled it over her hips. The material was cool against her skin as it slid down the length of her legs and pooled around her feet. "You're getting the dress, right?" Minako's hopeful voice wafted through the curtains.

Despite her mood, Usagi smiled. " _Yes_ , I'm getting the dress," she surrendered with a sigh of resignation as she slipped on her jeans and t-shirt.

When she stepped back out of the changeroom Minako was grinning, her hands clasped in front of her chest as she practically bounced onto the tips of her toes with excitement. "Yay! Can I borrow it next weekend?" She asked with a wry grin.

Usagi couldn't help but chuckle, Minako's buoyancy was infectious. "Fine!" She exclaimed and rolled her eyes with an amused smirk on her lips.

Minako squealed and hooked her arm with Usagi's. She leaned over conspiratorially, their blonde heads nearly touching. "Don't despair about this Chiba thing, Usagi-chan," She murmured and pressed her slender fingers comfortingly into her forearm. "All is fair at the beginning of war!" She exclaimed, her expression etched with all-knowing wisdom.

Usagi shook her head with amused disbelief. "You know Mina-chan, I think you should probably stick to movie quotes," Usagi advised, with a wry giggle.

Minako innocently blinked as she began to pull her to the front of the store. "What, you mean like, 'you had me at Goodbye'?" She asked the question with such genuine sincerity that Usagi couldn't help but laugh.

Minako was right. This would pass. Even if Mamoru did suddenly think she was immature and childish. He was still her best friend, and she didn't care what he thought. He was going to _remain_ her best friend. She fully intended to tell him that, too. When she wasn't so mad, and when the strange, painful fluttering in her chest disappeared.

oOo

It wasn't sunny today. It was miserably overcast, and a strange mist-like fog hung thickly in the air. It was a perfect reflection of exactly how Usagi felt inside.

She was nearing the end of another long school day, and she was contemplating the idea of possibly going to the arcade today. She sighed quietly and craned her neck to the side to peer out of the window into the drab darkness that consisted of swirling greys and churning wind that looked cold as it rattled the branches and shrubbery outside.

She turned away from the depressing picture and propped her chin into her palm, and slumped over her desk as she attempted to focus on sensei Haruna at the front of the classroom. It had been three days, now, since she'd returned Mamoru's text messages or answered one of his calls. She was starting to forget why she was even mad at him, and last night, while curled up miserably underneath her purple comforter, she'd caved and risked a peek at the messages he'd sent her. They were heartfelt apologies, and pleas to pick up her phone until finally, he'd sent her a final text stating that he understood her need for space.

She'd already sent a message to Seiya, much to Minako's dismay, to cancel their date this week. Though, she'd asked for a raincheck and used babysitting as an excuse to bail. She frowned in irritation at the thought, because _that_ was precisely why she was still not talking to Mamoru. She'd been sort of excited to go on her first date, and his mean outburst had made her doubt herself.

It was a feeling that she was not accustomed too, at all. She barreled through everything heart first with her silly little brain trailing behind in exasperation. Mamoru had always understood her, maybe better than she understood herself, and he was still there to catch her before she fell too hard. She grimaced; figuratively _and_ literally.

Once again, she was pulled from her thoughts by a loud thud and sensei Haruna towering over her. She cringed and her shoulders tensed as she tentatively peered up into the teachers face. She was not greeted by the annoyed scowl that was usually a permanent fixture on her face, especially when she was staring at _her._ Instead, her expression was smooth, her eyebrow raised and a half-smirk visible on her red-painted lips.

Haruna cleared her throat, and it was only then that Usagi noticed that the thud had been the auburn-haired teacher thumping down a paper onto her desk. "Well, Tsukino-san," she began, and Usagi's eyes widened at the slightly-less-angry tone of her voice. "Either fate or God has intervened on your behalf because I am not sure how you managed to pull this off," she exclaimed, and straightened her posture and took a step away from her desk. Her smile widened, and her eyes softened proudly. "I am thrilled that we will not be spending more time together this summer, Tsukino-san, and now that I _know_ what you're capable of, I am going to expect a whole lot more from you," she said, almost threateningly, before nodding and swivelling around to continue handing marked papers out to the rest of her classmates.

Usagi's breath hitched in her throat, as she tentatively lifted the paper that Haruna had unceremoniously slammed onto her desk. Her hands shook as she raised the slightly crumpled paper that she now recognized as her chemistry test. Her vision blurred as her eyes welled with unbidden tears, because there, on the very top beside her messily scrawled name was an 87 written in red pen.

She swallowed down a whimper of dismay because it wasn't fate that had intervened on her behalf. It was Mamo-chan. Her ebony-haired, caring and ridiculously overprotective best friend that had dropped everything to help her study course content that she should have already known if she'd only paid attention.

She sniffled as quietly as possible and quickly wiped an errant tear from her cheek with the back of her hand before anyone noticed. Why was she even holding on to this anger anyway? Mamoru had _always_ been protective of her. That was just who he was, and had always been. It had been like this, between them, since she'd met him when they were just little kids, and she'd held his hand for the first time as she'd pulled him down the hospital halls to meet her new baby brother. How could she let some date, with some boy that she'd only met _once_ come between her and Mamo-chan?

She strengthened her resolve and nodded with determination as she shoved the paper into her book bag, swivelled around and firmly clasped her hands and placed them on the desk in front of her. She forced herself to concentrate on Haruna that had resumed her lesson, while furtively glancing over at the clock that hung on the wall above the intercom.

Mamoru had never steered her wrong before, and she wasn't going to lose her very best friend over something so silly. She wasn't sure if he was going to be at the arcade after school, but she fully intended on finding him so that they could put this whole stupid thing behind them.

The last twenty minutes of the class passed by as if in slow-motion, and this time, when the bell rang she didn't linger.

She was a blur of energy as she picked up her book bag and flew from the room, a little more gracefully than usual, right past Naru, Umino and Ami who were slowly meandering down the walkway. She only briefly glimpsed the surprised looks on their faces as they called after her. She just had time to wave and shout back an apology that came out as more of a squeak because her hip collided painfully with the steel pole of the open gate.

She didn't have time to stop, though, because she was on a _mission._ And anyway, she was used to hurting herself.

She couldn't help but hum the theme song for 'mission impossible' in her head as she twisted, and clumsily dodged pedestrians as the soles of her black Mary-Jane shoes pounded against the pavement of the sidewalk.

She was out of breath, a sheen of clammy sweat on her face when she skidded to a halt in front of the arcade. Despite the cool air, her legs were thrumming and burning with the exertion of running when she stepped into the arcade. Her face fell with disappointment when she did not see Mamoru, hunched over some kind of book, sitting at his usual spot at the counter.

She took a moment to steady her balance and her breathing as she tentatively stepped over to the counter, her eyes desperately scanning the room for a familiar tinge of black hair.

"Hey, Usagi-chan!"

She twisted around, her eyes wide, as they fell onto Motoki who'd just stepped over the threshold of the back room, with a sleeve of white take away paper cups in his hand.

The corners of her lips curled up into a warm smile for her blond friend that she hadn't seen in days, as she slowly stepped up to the counter and placed her palms flat on its surface. She decided not to settle into one of the swivel stools if Mamoru wasn't here.

"Hey!" she greeted and forcefully injected a brightness into her voice that she wasn't quite feeling. "Have you, by any chance, seen Mamo-chan?" She questioned hopefully, as she nervously bit her bottom lip and tilted her head to the side with wide eyes glistening with forced optimism.

Motoki's expression fell, and he shook his head, sympathy etched into the contours of his face. "I'm sorry, Usagi-chan," he apologized gently. "He hasn't been in for a few days now. I thought you guys were together somewhere else, actually," he said, and Usagi couldn't help the pitifully despondent look that flashed onto her features.

He'd been avoiding the arcade as well, it would seem, and she couldn't help but feel guilty as she swallowed and averted her gaze. It was so strange. Mamoru was rarely bothered by the things she did, and she did a lot of really ridiculous things. His outburst over something like this was confusing to her, and while she'd fully intended on ignoring him for longer for hurting her feelings before getting to the bottom of it just hours ago, now, all she wanted to do was hug her best friend so that everything could just go back to normal.

Motoki cleared his throat uncomfortably, and Usagi's gaze snapped back up to his face that was watching her with concern shining from warm chocolate-brown eyes. "Maybe he's at home? Why don't you text him?" he prodded gently, and Usagi offered him a reassuring smile.

She probably _should_ text him, but it didn't feel right saying what she needed to say over text message.

She nodded, "Thank you, Motoki," she responded as she pulled away from the counter. "I'll see you later!" she exclaimed as she twisted around and made her way through the arcade door.

Mamoru was probably at home and, with renewed determination, she made her down the walkway towards his building complex.

She was going over what she would say in her mind, carefully constructing an apology when she made it to his apartment. Just outside the walkway that would lead her to his front lobby, was a small cart covered in a colourful medley of flowers. The flower vendor was a little, frail woman with greying hair and bright green eyes that wisely watched her as she passed.

She was struck, suddenly, with a bright idea. The best way to apologize to Mamo-chan would be to offer him a rose. The corners of her lips quirked up into a relieved grin as she excitedly skipped towards the kind-looking woman and requested one red rose. It didn't cost very much, and she rummaged in one of the many pockets of her bookbag for the yen that she knew she'd tucked away in there.

The woman smiled gratefully as they exchanged yen for rose. Usagi bowed her head before twisting around and skipped up the walkway towards Mamoru's apartment with the long-stemmed, de-thorned flower clutched firmly in her hand. It was the perfect way to tell him how sorry she was because she was a firm believer that flowers were a universal symbol of good things. You presented a flower to someone that was sick, an indication that you wanted them to get well. To a mother who'd just given birth to a baby, or your significant other to show your appreciation. Or to your super awesome best friend that you'd stupidly ignored for three days.

She shifted nervously in the elevator on the way up, and, for some reason, her heart was pounding as she made her way to his apartment door.

On a typical day, she would have unlocked the door herself and bounded into the genkan without a second thought, but today, given the circumstances, she opted to knock instead. She waited, her fingers fiddling with the rose stem, as she propelled herself to the tips of her toes to peer into the tiny glass peephole on the door. Which, was ridiculous of course. She frowned when he didn't answer, and she knocked twice more, rapping her knuckles with more force against the door for good measure. Just in case he'd missed the sound the first time.

It felt like she stood in the hallway for hours, though it was probably only minutes, as she waited for him to answer the door. She heard nothing from the other side, and she needed to swallow around the lump of regret that formed in her throat as her posture, that had been stiff with excitement, slumped forward in disappointment. The urge to cry was strong, and she couldn't stop the tears that pricked the corners of her eyes as she sadly turned away and made her way back down the hallway.

Where on Earth could he be? She wrapped her arms around her midsection as she walked as strange thoughts coursed through her mind. It wouldn't be the first time that she'd stupidly forgotten that Mamoru had a life outside of her, and anyway, she'd been the one to ignore him. What had she expected, really? That he would be sitting at home pining over their friendship?

She'd made her way out of the building, barely concentrating on where she was going, lost in her misery when an unbidden, involuntary thought popped into her mind. What if… what if Mamoru was on a date? The churning uncomfortable feeling in her stomach and the sour taste in her mouth at the idea caught her off guard, and she couldn't help the tears that slid listlessly down her cheeks after that.

It was silly, and she probably only felt that way because the notion that Mamoru was on a date with someone she'd never met was bothersome. She stopped just before she opened her front door, and her hand froze and hovered just above the door handle with the startling realization. _Of course._ That's why Mamoru had been upset as well! He was just worried about her.

She sniffled and swallowed down a whimper as she stepped into the brightly-lit genkan. _She was going to have to text him after all, it would seem._

"Usagi, darling, is that you?"

Usagi sighed, furtively wiping away her tears as she kicked off her shoes and forced a fake smile onto her lips as she straightened and met her mother's concerned gaze as she popped over the genkan threshold. "Hi, Mama!" she exclaimed, and the overt, painfully high octave of forced cheerfulness made her inwardly wince.

Ikuko sighed and shook her head. Waves of lavender hair rippling around her shoulders with the movement. "Darling," she began with a warm smile curling onto her lips. "Mamoru's in your room. He's been waiting for you," she began, and Usagi's breath hitched, and she froze as her mother's words registered. "Now, Usagi. I know that you're still angry, but I want you to at least-"

She didn't hear the rest of her mother's words, because she'd already twisted her body, her heart racing furiously as she took the steps two at a time upstairs to her bedroom.

She nearly tripped over her own feet as she skidded to halt in the doorway and peered into the room whose door was open. A mournful sob involuntarily bubbled up in her throat at the sight of Mamoru sitting cross-legged on her bed, his hair ruffled and falling into cobalt blue eyes that were bent over a book. He glanced up, and his eyes widened as his gaze met hers.

His smile was tentative and soft, "Usako," he said, and the low baritone of his voice was low and steady, and comforting. She'd _missed_ him so much!

It was no secret that she had an array of personality quirks that could be deemed quite annoying to others, and herself, depending on how you looked at it. One of those quirks was the intensity of her emotions and the tears that _always_ accompanied them. Which was why, at that very moment, she burst into tears.

And not just the small, might-still-look-cute tears. These were huge, gulping strained sobs that took her breath away and covered her face in red blotchy spots and an endless stream of tears. Which only intensified the moment she noted that Mamoru was holding something in his hand, too. A long-stemmed red rose. Probably from the exact same vendor that she'd passed by his apartment complex.

One moment she was covering her face trying to control the steady stream of tears, and the next she'd been firmly pulled into his arms.

She was a big sobbing mess as she clutched the front of his shirt and buried her head in his chest. "Mamo-chan," she choked, sniffling, and sucking in sharp-edged breaths. "I'm - so- so sorry," she gasped between whimpers. "I'm so stupid, and I swear I won't even go on that stupid date with Seiya. I didn't mean to get mad at you for so long, and - and-" She knew that she sounded pathetic, and she was infinitely grateful when Mamoru interrupted her.

"Usako," he murmured, his words muffled in her hair. "Please stop. I'm the one who's sorry. I just get so -" he stopped, and sighed with frustration. She pulled away slightly, and hiccuping, craned her neck to peer up into his face. His expression was pained and miserable. "I get so protective of you, that's all. I didn't mean to say anything to hurt you, Usako. I don't think you're irresponsible," he said, and his tone was soft and pleading.

She blinked up at him and lifted her hand to wipe away the mess of tears on her cheeks, as she considered his words. In reality, what he'd said hadn't truly been cruel, and honestly, she kind of _was_ irresponsible. The realization made her lips quirk up into an amused half-smile through her tears, which promptly made Mamoru frown.

She bit her lower lip and absentmindedly fiddled with a button on his shirt. "Well, I am _sort of_ irresponsible, actually," she conceded and cleared her throat as a warm blush burned the top of her cheeks.

Mamoru's eyebrows rose with surprise, and his lips twitched from the _knowing_ smile that he was _clearly_ trying to suppress. Just like that, she felt the tension between them melt away, and she rolled her eyes skywards and playfully hit his shoulder as she pulled away.

"I didn't say you were _right_ , or anything," she said, and propped her hand onto her hip with a scowl on her face. Mamoru's smile widened, and she exhaled with contrived irritation as she fell backwards onto her bed with a dramatic twist of her body. "Don't let it go to your head, baka," she murmured, but the grin that curled onto her lips was wide and dazzling. It felt like there had been a weight lifted off of her chest, and she inwardly vowed never to fight with Mamoru again.

He chuckled as he plopped down onto the bed beside her. Her arm pressed flush against his, and their heads were practically touching as they both fixed their gazes onto the ceiling.

It was comfortably silent between them, as the mattress molded around her form, and the rhythmic sound of his steady breathing beside her began to lull her to sleep. Her eyelids fluttered shut over her eyes that was starting to burn with exhaustion.

He sighed beside her, suddenly, and it was quiet, but still echoed in the silence of her room. "Usako," he began, and the serious tone of his voice made her frown. "I think you - I think you should go on that date if you want. I didn't mean to…" he trailed off, and the words sounded pained as he spoke them.

She wanted to ask him if he thought she was childish, or if he didn't think she could handle a date, but she was loathed to bring it up again. She was pretty sure that the reason he'd been so upset was that she'd failed to mention it to him and he'd become protective, just like she had when she thought that he might be on a date tonight.

She reached over and clasped his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. "Okay, Mamo-chan. If I decide to go on a date with Seiya, I'll make sure to tell you first this time," she reassured with a small involuntary nod of her head.

He sighed again, and she was sure he opened his mouth to say something, but it fell silent between them again.

It wasn't quiet for long before he spoke again. "I bought you a rose," he whispered, and she squeezed his hand as her smile widened.

"I got you one, too," she said, and her tone was laced with amusement. What were the chances that they would both have the same idea to apologize? She suddenly wanted to tell him everything that she wished she could have told him over the past couple of days, but there was too much, and she was starting to feel slightly overwhelmed with exhaustion.

She lifted her free hand to stifle a yawn, "There's an astronomy convention thingy on Saturday. Do you want to go?" She asked, "I wanted to tell you right away, but…" she trailed off with a shrug, and tried to blink away the blurriness in her eyes.

He chuckled softly, the sound soothed her, and she closed her eyes. "I saw a cat sleeping with a duck in the park. I wanted to tell you," he whispered beside her.

She didn't open her eyes, but her smile widened. "Omgawsh," she murmured sleepily and yawned again. "That's so cute, Mamo-chan," she responded drowsily. "Let's never fight again, okay?" she said and twisted onto her side, eyes still closed, and curled her hands beneath her cheek.

She felt him move beside her, and his breath warmly fanned across her face. She was almost asleep, but she was sure that he tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. "Okay, Usako," he whispered softly.

She sighed and melted into the mattress beneath her. "Best friends forever?" she slurred and heard him exhale deeply.

"Forever, Usa. I promise."

She fell asleep right after that, so she must have just imagined the wistful sadness laced into the softly spoken words.

oOo


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Hello readers! So, thank you SO much for the reviews, follows, and favorites. FOR REAL. You guys are awesome. Though, you may not like me as much after this chapter. I know, guys. Usagi is clueless - Mamoru is frustrating- would you believe me when I tell you that even while I'm writing this, I'm like - 'Come on, Mamoru. Get it together, you baka!' Because, I'm telling you right now. These characters wrote themselves!

 _Either way,_ I promise there is a beautiful ending to this slow burn, and this entire fic is a total of 10 chapters. So bear with me?

As usual, I need to thank my pretty bae-tas, **Ninjette Twitch _and_ Revy679. **Talented writers, beautiful souls, and even better friends. I love them to pieces.

Okay! If you like this, please Review!

 **Chapter 7**

The three days that he hadn't been able to speak to Usagi had been agonizing, and in the time he'd spent despairing over what he was going to do, as they'd never fought like this before, he'd come to a painful decision. These feelings were his own, and he was not going to risk losing her friendship because of it. It had always been evident to him that they were only friends and that his love for her was not going to be reciprocated. Not in the same way that he felt for her, anyway.

So, he'd decided that he would keep her in his life, as she'd always been, as his best friend rather than risk losing her altogether. That meant no more jealousy-induced outbursts and the beginning of getting through some harrowing situations. Just like the one that he was currently enduring; Usagi, in his bathroom, getting ready for a date with someone else.

He raked a frustrated hand through his hair and snapped his biochemistry book shut. He'd reread the same paragraph six times because he could hear her in there; showering, humming, and so thoroughly excited that he wished that he could rip his heart out of his chest just so it would stop aching so much.

He'd known, of course, that this night was coming. She'd told him on Monday that she'd texted what's-his-face and rescheduled for this Friday. With a forced smile, and a churning feeling in the pit of his stomach, he'd nodded and attempted to convey something that remotely resembled a nonchalance he wasn't quite sure he'd managed to pull off. And though things had returned to normal, he'd admittedly been dreading this day and had proactively made plans to drown himself in school work and pretend like she wasn't on her first date with someone else.

He probably could have managed, too. Except that Usagi had received detention after school today, and so, instead of getting ready for this damn thing at Minako's as she'd initially planned, she'd burst in here. Because Minako's was across town and his apartment was closer to the restaurant that she was going to - _as if he'd needed to know that_ \- and she was running late.

He secretly hoped that she was so late, that what's-his-face bailed and she'd swear off dating. Preferably _forever._ He wasn't that lucky though, and he suppressed a mournful sigh as he pressed back into the recliner and reopened the book he wouldn't possibly be able to read until she left.

He was staring at the words on the page, as he broodingly contemplated the terrible decisions he was making in his life when the bathroom door finally opened. He was torn between relief because she would finally leave and put him out of his misery, and dread, because then she would _go,_ when she spoke from the hall.

"Okay, Mamo-chan," she said, and though her voice reverberated off the walls, he frowned because she sounded nervous. "I'm ready. Can you please promise not to laugh at me?" She questioned with a nervous giggle that made the frown on his face deepen.

He closed his book for a second time and tossed it onto the coffee table, as he leaned forward with concern. "Usako," he began, "I seriously doubt I would laugh at you," he reassured gently, though he had to clear his throat to hide the nervousness that was seeping into his tone too. Maybe she'd accidentally dyed her hair a gaudy color or had a terrible makeup malfunction. He grimaced guiltily at the unbidden thoughts that he secretly _hoped_ for.

She giggled shakily again. "Okay, ugh," she groaned, and again, Mamoru had to stamp down the hopeful feeling that was elicited by her tone.

He didn't like that she was acting strangely self-conscious, but still… if she _had_ accidentally cut her hair off or something, she might not _want_ to go, and who was he to dissuade her from canceling her date?

The half-smile on his face faded, though, the moment she stepped into the living room. She hadn't cut off her hair or dyed it a different color. Oh, God. _This was so much worse than that._

His breath hitched painfully in his throat, his eyes widened, and his heart stopped. It must have because he couldn't breathe at the sight of her. She was perfection; all ample curves, endlessly long legs, and milky white skin. It was like the dress was painted onto her body; accenting all the edges, contours and dips of her perfectly lithe form. It was unlike anything she'd ever worn before, and it was so damn painful to see her wearing it now.

Others were going to see what he'd always seen if she wore that dress in public, and all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms, cover her up and shield her from anyone that might see her in _that_ way.

In his shock, he didn't say anything right away, and his feelings must have shown on his face because her blush intensified and she shifted nervously. Slender fingers fiddled with the lower seam of her dress as she self consciously tried to pull it lower down the length of her thighs. Which he inwardly _wanted_ her to do, because the dress was too damn short.

She visibly swallowed before clearing her throat. "Is it bad? It's bad, isn't it?" She whispered, her voice small, vulnerable and horrified. "I never would have tried it on, but Mina-chan picked it out for me," she murmured with another nervous giggle.

He only then realized that he was slack-jawed, lips partially opened in shock, and he promptly snapped his mouth shut and shook his head to clear it. _Minako._ He gritted his teeth, _of course,_ she'd been the one to get her into that stupid, beautiful, damn _heart-wrenching_ dress.

Usagi's eyes were wide, and glistening with a vulnerability that inwardly made him cringe as she peered at him expectantly.

He was at a loss for words. "It's … it's _different,"_ he murmured harshly because he didn't know what else to say. Definitely not what he really thought.

Her face fell, and she averted her gaze. "Yeah, I know," she gulped and wrapped her arms around her midsection as if to cover herself up. "I should probably change," she muttered under her breath.

He wanted to say; 'yes, go take that damn jaw-dropping, heart-attack inducing, _breathtaking_ dress _off_ ,' but he just couldn't do it. Usagi was crestfallen, self-conscious, feeling unsure about herself when she shouldn't be. Despite the tangled mess of emotions he was feeling, she did look beautiful.

So, he forced a smile on his face instead. "Usako," he breathed, and her gaze snapped back onto him. "It's different in a… in a good way," he forcibly reassured. "You're beautiful, and you'll have your date falling at your feet. I promise," he said, and though the words pained him, the way her face lit up made it worth it.

Her smile was dazzling, and her self confidence restored, as she bounced into the room. "Thank you, Mamo-chan," she exclaimed, and he noted that she was slightly breathless with excitement as she brushed past him sitting on the recliner and made her way to the other end of the living room, to stand in front of a plain-framed mirror that hung on the wall. (also courtesy of Usagi that was determined to decorate his apartment.)

With a sigh and a renewed resolve to send her off with a smile, he stood and followed behind her. She was fiddling with her hair, a crease on her brow as she fluffed the wispy tendrils that framed her heart-shaped face. Her eyes met his in the mirror, and she must have seen something that he didn't suppress in time written in his expression because her frown deepened.

She twisted around, and nearly stumbled clumsily with the abrupt movement, to face him. "Mamo-chan, what's wrong?" she demanded, and her tone was laced with a mixture of irritation and concern. "You said that you were okay with this," she said, and propped her hand on her hip, tilted her head to the side, and scrunched up her nose into an annoyed grimace.

The corner of his lips quirked into an amused half-smirk, because despite the dress, and the makeup, and what she'd done to her hair. Usako was still the same, clumsy, adorable, girl that he knew and loved. "I'm fine, Usako," he replied reassuringly and took a step closer to her.

She seemed satisfied with his response, and her tensed shoulders relaxed, and she nodded with a warm smile. "Okay, you've just been acting so strange every time I've mentioned it this week," she said softly, blinking up at him innocently, a glint of nervous worry still shining from her eyes. "I just don't want you to get mad, or anything," she murmured and turned back towards the mirror,

He internally cringed. Either Usagi had all of a sudden developed the ability to be uncannily perceptive, or he was doing a terrible job at hiding how he really felt about this date. "Usako, I swear, I'm not going to get mad at you, I'm just…" he trailed off and raked a hand through his hair with barely restrained frustration.

She twisted back around and took a step towards him, a knowing smile on her lips. "Mamo-chan," she murmured softly. "You don't have to worry! I asked Mina-chan tons of questions, and he's a _really_ nice guy. He's in a band, but he's not a jerk like you would think. Minako says that he treats all the girls he talks to with respect. People really like him at her school," she said, her chin tilted upwards, and her lips curled into a reassuring smile that he knew was meant to soothe his concerns. It didn't though, because she was wrong about the reasons for his worry, and hearing that what's-his-face was a nice guy in a band did not help. _At all._

Still, he smiled through gritted teeth and nodded, internally reminding himself that her happiness was more important than his feelings. "I know, Usako," he practically choked. "Just…" he trailed off, swallowing the words he couldn't quite manage when she suddenly closed the gap between them and curled slender arms around his waist, as she tucked her head beneath his chin and buried her face into his chest.

He only hoped she wouldn't hear the erratic sound of his heart beating so fast as he tentatively reciprocated and wrapped his arms around her. "Don't worry, Mamo-chan," she murmured, her words muffled as they tangled and disappeared into the fabric of his shirt. "One of these days you will have to stop worrying about me so much," she said with a chuckle that was enticingly lilting.

All he could do was nod as she pulled away, and graced him with a dazzling smile before she straightened her dress and practically twirled out of his embrace before she skipped over to the couch where she'd dropped her purse.

She was still a flurry of bright energy as she made her way into the genkan. Except for this time, she was a clumsy whirlwind of brightness in a revealing black dress as she opened the front door. With another dazzling smile and a final glance backward she winked. "Wish me luck, Mamo-chan!" she exclaimed brightly, before disappearing into the hall; silken blonde hair, and the scent of vanilla and lavender, trailing in her wake.

It was only when the door clicked shut behind her, that he allowed the faux-encouraging mask that he had plastered onto his face to melt away into the miserable expression that mirrored his true feelings. "Good luck, Usako," he whispered mournfully, and wished, with everything in him, that he could find a way to honestly mean those words. Though, if the painful jabs in his chest were any indication, that was very unlikely to happen any time soon.

oOo

Drowning himself in school work, unsurprisingly, was not working. It didn't help that Mamoru knew which restaurant that she'd gone to. It made imagining her sitting there, across from what's-his-face, with her signature breathtaking smile curled onto pink, bubblegum lips, that much clearer. She'd be sweet, and naive and have no idea that he'd probably already taken note of her bared legs, and the way they looked in that stupidly beautiful dress.

An image of some leering guy leaning over the table, grazing her slender arm with his fingers, with his ugly face only inches from hers was enough to make him snap his book shut in disgusted frustration and rake a hand through his hair with gritted teeth.

This was ridiculous; this had been _his_ decision, hadn't it? He'd been the one to decide to grit his teeth and bear it rather than just tell her that he didn't want her to date this guy - or _any guy,_ for that matter. He didn't have any right to intervene, and though, logically, he knew that was true, he couldn't stop glancing at his watch and picturing her kissing some guy that she barely knew.

With a sigh of self-disgust, he stood abruptly, his movements jerky and angry as he stuffed his school books into his leather, briefcase styled book bag. He couldn't stay here a second longer just stewing in images that he wished would stop invading his thoughts. He needed to get out of here, and the only place that he could think of was the Crown Parlour. Usually, the sounds of the arcade were distracting, but right now, a distraction was exactly what he needed.

He left his apartment, locking the door behind him, and tried to banish all the thoughts of Usagi out of his mind as he slowly made his way out of the complex and carefully navigated the foot traffic down to the crown arcade. It was busy; the establishment teeming with teenagers looking for something to do on a Friday night, and for the first time, he was grateful for the noise and the crowd.

His usual seat was occupied, so he opted to sit at the other end of the counter, and carefully pushed through a congregating crowd of girls ordering milkshakes as he made his way there, and sat in the only free swivel stool. He exhaled deeply with relief and extracted a random book from his bag that he unceremoniously dropped onto the floor beside the scuffed metal legs of the stool.

Motoki was currently occupied serving said frenzy of giggling girls, but his sandy-haired friend still offered him a quick glance and a smile to greet him. Mamoru nodded and waved back, before opening his book - history, apparently- and forcibly lost himself in the written paragraphs of dry-cut, easy to understand, black and white facts. _That_ , paired with the sounds thrumming around him, was enough to temporarily distract him from thoughts of Usagi and her date, though it still simmered there at the back of his mind.

Within twenty minutes, the crowd thinned enough that Motoki was free to wander towards his ebony-haired friend, who did not hear him approach at first.

Mamoru's gaze snapped up to the sandy-haired blond who chuckled with amusement from behind the counter. "You know, you're the only one that would come to an arcade to study on a Friday night," he teased lightly, as he rolled his eyes, shook his head with a half-smirk on his lips. "Where's Usagi-chan tonight? Don't you guys usually do a movie night thing on Fridays?" he probed curiously, and his eyes scanned the crowds in the arcade in search of her.

Just like that, his distraction was gone, and he was thoroughly reminded of Usagi. With tightly pressed lips, he glanced up from his book at Motoki. "She's on a date," he muttered, doing his best to suppress his irritation, as he shifted his weight in the stool and, with eyes narrowed, glanced back down at his textbook.

It was silent for a moment, and Mamoru was sure that the arcade part-timer had moved on, but Motoki cleared his throat. With a sigh, he, once again, lifted his gaze to meet Motoki's, whose eyes were filled with a knowing look that instantly put him on edge.

"Mamoru, we've been friends for a while now, and it seriously kills me to see you like this," he said, and Mamoru's brows drew together into a frown, as his stomach churned with dread. "Why don't you just tell her how you feel?" Motoki blurted with conviction, and though he'd expected the statement, it still made him cringe to hear Motoki say it out loud.

He coughed nervously. "I'm not sure who you're referring to," he murmured under his breath, a heated blush involuntarily creeping up his neck and spreading over his face.

Motoki snorted as he leaned forward, his palms pressed onto the countertop, with a half-smirk on his lips. "Come on, you know I'm talking about Usagi-chan," he stated with a sideways tilt of his head.

Mamoru wasn't delusional. He'd seen the knowing looks etched onto his friends faces every time they caught him looking at her longingly, and, truthfully, he wasn't always good at hiding how he felt about her. But still, it was disconcerting to hear Motoki say it out loud.

He swallowed and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "That's ridiculous," he muttered, feeling flustered. "Usako is my best friend… she's like my… like my sister," he lied, practically choking on the words.

Motoki raised an eyebrow wryly. "Did it hurt to say that with a straight face?" His tone was laced with amusement, and Mamoru scowled and pressed his lips together tightly with irritation, as he forcibly bit back a retort.

Motoki shook his head with exasperation. "Look, Mamoru. I'm just saying," he began, as he leaned over to collect some empty glasses left along the countertop. "I can't understand why you don't just tell her. It's seriously painful to watch you sometimes, and Usagi-chan… well," he stopped and grimaced with a wince as he carefully considered his words. "Well, that girl is never going to figure it out. She's cute, but she is seriously clueless," he stated and chuckled to himself with another amused shake of his head.

Mamoru's fingers clenched into fists on either side of his forgotten textbook, and his scowl darkened into an annoyed glower. He couldn't help the flash of anger that coursed through him or the protective feelings he elicited with his words when referencing Usagi. "She's not clueless," he snapped without thinking, though he inwardly cringed at the unintentional growl that laced into his tone.

Motoki was not even remotely fazed, and he merely chuckled. "See!" he exclaimed with amusement and gestured animatedly with a sweep of his hand. " _That_ right there is exactly what I'm talking about, Mamoru!" He stopped busying himself with the glasses as his expression sobered. "Seriously, though. Why don't you just tell her?" He asked with a genuine curiosity glinting in his eyes.

Mamoru's stare was steady and even, not at all a reflection of the turmoil churning inside of him, as he seriously contemplated Motoki's question. This was something he'd thought about, almost constantly, since the day he'd admitted to himself that he'd fallen for her. He almost wished that he would have stayed in denial because then things would have been much easier.

He wasn't in the habit of having emotionally charged, in-depth conversations with his friends, and he was half-tempted to dismissively wave Motoki off and go back to the less complex topics of his history book, but with a resigned sigh, he decided that their mutual friend only had his best interests at heart.

"Look, I get what you're saying," Mamoru began, and cleared his throat uncomfortably. It was one thing to internally pine for Usagi, but it was a whole different matter to speak about it out loud. "It's just… I know you don't know everything about what it was like for me, growing up, but Usagi…" he sighed and ran nervous fingers through his hair. "She saved my life. She and her family are everything to me," he stated vehemently, and Motoki's eyes widened.

Mamoru smiled sadly. "And, yes, I wish that she was more than just a friend, but she doesn't feel that way about me," he said, matter of fact, but also with a tinge of disappointed acceptance.

"Well, you won't know that for sure if you don't say something, Mamoru," Motoki responded, a frown creased onto his brow.

Mamoru shrugged. "I know, you're right," he sighed, "I won't know for sure if I don't say something," he conceded because that was something that he'd considered as well.

Motoki's frown deepened, and he shook his head in confusion. "So, why don't you say something?" he questioned, his tone sincere and filled with curiosity. "I mean come on, Mamoru. Wouldn't it be better to know?"

Mamoru shook his head, "No, it wouldn't," he said firmly. "It's not worth the risk. I'd rather feel this way because she's on a date with someone else than feel like I did when she wouldn't speak to me for three days," he said with finality, as he forcibly turned his gaze back onto his book.

Motoki sighed, "But what if-"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," Mamoru interrupted sternly. "Let it go, Motoki," he stated and turned the page with a slow, deliberate movement. It was an indication that this conversation was over, and he wasn't likely to talk about it again.

He heard Motoki sigh sadly, but his sandy-haired friend must have conceded defeat because he didn't say another word as he shuffled away, and the low baritone of his voice could be heard at the other end of the counter serving another group of teenagers.

Teenagers that had, all of a sudden, become overwhelmingly loud. It was with a hardened expression and resigned movements that Mamoru snapped the book shut and dropped it back into his bag. It didn't matter where he was. He was going to be thinking about her, and if he was going to be thinking about her, he might as well be doing it in the confines of his apartment where he didn't have to pretend that he wasn't miserable.

oOo

He'd given up on reading, his books, forgotten and strewn across the coffee table, as he let his head fall back on the headrest of the couch with a forlorn sigh. He was contemplating either going to bed and staring miserably up at the ceiling until he inevitably fell asleep or turning the television on and watching the same two channels since he did not have cable when his apartment door suddenly flew open.

He jolted up into a sitting position, cobalt blue eyes wide and filled with confusion, as he turned towards the genkan. Only to be greeted by the sight of Usagi; all blonde-hair, bright smiles, and _thankfully_ , wearing pink yoga pants and an oversized T-shirt rather than the black dress she'd left in.

He was admittedly baffled to see her there, and it crossed his mind for a moment that maybe her date had gone terribly wrong. Except she didn't _look_ upset, and there was a bounce in her step as she skipped into the room.

She was humming as she dropped her purple canvas bag onto the floor and plopped down onto the couch beside him with a deep breath and warm smile. "Hey, did you pick the movie yet?" She questioned, and blinked up at him innocently, with a casual tilt of her head. He was still in shock, so he could only stare at her, frozen, his brow furrowed in confusion.

When he didn't respond right away, her brows knitted into a look of bewilderment. "Earth to Mamo-chan!" She exclaimed brightly and curled slender legs beneath her as she leaned forward. "Did you forget to pick a movie?" She asked slowly before her eyes suddenly lit up and her smile widened. She reached down, twisting her lithe form, as she pulled out a DVD from her bag on the floor. "It's fine if you did! Cause I just _happen_ to have a backup right here in my purse," she said happily and tapped a dainty index finger on the plastic case of what was undoubtedly another long, sappy romantic comedy. Her favorite genre to watch.

He shook his head in equal parts confusion, and disbelief. "Usako, what are you doing here?" He questioned, thoroughly puzzled because although he was extremely pleased that she'd come over, he definitely had not been expecting to see her.

She blinked, a bemused half-smile on her lips as she fixed her gaze onto him. "Do you have plans that I don't know about or something?" She asked lightly, with a soft, enticing giggle. "It is movie night, isn't it?"

He nodded and smiled indulgently. "Usually, yes," he chuckled. "But you were.. on a date?" He questioned, his tone laced with a mixture of confusion and hope that maybe she had decided not to go after all.

She rolled her eyes skyward, sighed dramatically and leaned closer to him. He was momentarily distracted by the scent of lavender, "Mamo, my date is over. He walked me home like 45 minutes ago. Didn't you get my text message?" She questioned with a frown.

He _hadn't_ actually received her message, as, in his pathetic state of self-pity, he'd left his phone behind on the charger in his room. He smiled sheepishly and opened his mouth to respond, but she interrupted him.

"Does that mean that we can watch the movie I picked?" She asked excitedly. "You know, since you for some reason thought we weren't doing a movie night tonight?" She was on her knees now, they pressed into the cushion as she clasped her hands in front of her expectantly with an adorable pink tinge on her cheeks. Her sapphire blue eyes filled with anticipation. "And, really. I _should_ get to pick the movie, because last time you picked, I had to sit through a whole documentary about the solar system," she ranted, as, in usual Usagi-like fashion, she animatedly gestured with her hands as if to highlight the impact of each impassioned word she spoke.

He let out a bark of disbelieving laughter, thoroughly amused now as he leaned back, his gaze lovingly fixed onto her. "Well, actually. You fell asleep in the first ten minutes, Usa," he chuckled softly.

She tilted her chin up, her eyes flashing indignantly. " _Regardless,_ " she said with contrived imperiousness, as her lips twitched as she tried to suppress a smile. "I still think we should watch the movie I brought," she said, and the look on her face was bright, pink-tinged and so damn adorable that he couldn't help the lopsided grin that spread across his face.

He sighed with feigned resignation. "All right, Usako," he conceded. "We can watch your movie."

She squealed excitedly and bounced off of the couch and towards the slightly archaic DVD player hooked up to his small, outdated television. "Get the ice cream!" She exclaimed brightly as she fiddled with the case and the machine.

He raised a questioning eyebrow, "Usa, I don't have ice cream," he replied, his tone laced with amusement.

Her eyes sparkled impishly, as shining sapphire blue eyes peered over her shoulder at him. "Check your freezer, Mamo-chan," She giggled, with a mischievous smirk that made him laugh.

Sure enough, there was a pint of rocky road ice cream in the freezer, Usako's favorite, and, just like they did every Friday night, they settled onto the sofa to watch a romantic comedy that he couldn't be bothered to pay attention to because he was too busy watching her. Bright-eyed, her hair askew and falling out of her usually tightly crafted buns, and her legs curled comfortably beneath her. Her gaze fixed unblinkingly onto the screen, a spoon of ice cream perched, forgotten, in her mouth as she watched the events of the movie unfold with awe.

He knew that he should have just been grateful that she'd remembered movie night, and taken it as a sign that maybe the date hadn't gone that well. She'd come here, after all, but he was a sucker for pain, apparently, because he needed to know.

He cleared his throat loudly to distract her from the movie, and she craned a slender neck sideways to glance over at him. One silky blonde tress coming completely undone with the abrupt movement.

He opened his mouth, then soundlessly snapped it shut, before nervously shifting on the couch cushion, which had suddenly become uncomfortable.

She tilted her head to the side, blonde brows arching upward inquisitively. "Are you okay, Mamo-chan?" She questioned, and he could hear the concern and uncertainty in her tone.

He suppressed a grimace and nodded. "I'm fine, Usako. I just wondered how," he cleared his throat, and summoned up the courage to ask what he actually didn't want to know. "How your date went?" He was pleased that he managed to keep his voice steady.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and the tinge on her cheeks went from a blushing pink to an embarrassed red, and his heart sank into the pit of his stomach at the sight.

She bit her bottom lip, her eyes darting away from his as she contemplated her words. "Well…" She trailed off and shrugged, and he held his breath as he waited. "Is it weird for you, Mamo-chan? For me to talk about it, I mean?" She questioned nervously.

His breath hitched in his throat, because yes. It was so weird. It was awful, it was painful but damn. He needed to know. "Why do you think it would be weird?" He asked, and he heard the catch in his voice this time, though he hoped that she didn't notice.

She frowned, deep in thought, as she swiftly uncurled her legs from beneath her, pulled them into her chest, and wrapped slender arms around her legs. She only met his gaze again as she perched her chin onto her knees. "You've just been so weird about this whole dating thing, Mamo-chan, and at first, I thought it was because you were worried about me," she said, her tone soft and serious as her blue eyes met his. They were wide and gleaming with a _knowing_ look that made his heart begin to pound furiously within the cavity of his chest.

He swallowed around the lump in his throat, at a loss for words, as she suddenly leaned forward on her knees and moved to his side of the couch until she was directly beside him. Her knees grazed the side of his thigh as she leaned forward and grasped his hand, that shook, in her smaller steadier one.

He didn't know what to say, and his breath caught in his throat as he stared down into her face. Her chin was tilted upwards, only inches from his, and her eyes, laced with full black lashes, peered up at him filled with genuine tenderness. _Did she know? Had she figured it out?_

"You don't have to worry, Mamo-chan," she murmured, and her breath was warm as it fanned across his cheeks, the sound of her voice velvety and soft. He couldn't help but imagine leaning down, ever so slightly, and pressing his lips onto hers. "I'm sure, someday soon, you'll meet a really great girl, and you'll go on a first date too," she comforted with a gentle smile, and it took a moment for her words to register. When they did, it took everything in him not to groan out loud in frustration.

It was almost comical, and he forcibly swallowed down a humorless bark of laughter. "Right," he practically choked. "Of course, Usako," he said, and forced what he hoped was a reassuring smile onto his face.

Her lips curled into a smile, and she nodded. Satisfied that she'd figured out the reason for Mamoru's reticence towards her date. "Anyways," she began, her tone bright and airy. "I think you'll like Seiya," she said, released his hand, and turned back to the television screen.

He pressed his lips into a grim line, and grit his teeth. Seiya. What a stupid name. "So, you had fun?" He forced the words out.

She nodded, though it was a bit absentmindedly as the movie had pulled her attention away again. "Yeah, it was. He's sweet, and he was a total gentleman. We didn't kiss or anything though," she said, and he couldn't help but feel relieved to hear that. It was a short-lived feeling though because the words she uttered next painfully twisted his heart. "Maybe next time," she murmured with a shrug before she gasped and squealed at something happening on the screen.

He couldn't be bothered to figure out what it was though because he spent the rest of his movie desperately raking over his reasons for keeping his feelings to himself. He'd weighed the risks, compared the pros and cons, and suddenly, he didn't know how he was going to bear it.

Then she laughed at the movie, and it wasn't a dainty, delicate giggle, it was a loud snorting guffaw that propelled her forward and almost caused her to fall off the couch.

His hand automatically shot out to brace her from falling, and she graced him with a dazzling grateful smile. Suddenly, he couldn't remember being miserable at all. He could bear anything when she smiled at him like that.

oOo

He wished he'd known the thoughts that had been stewing in her mind on movie night. If he had known, he might have found a way to completely stop what happened the next day as he sat in his usual spot at the arcade, waiting for Usagi that was supposed to meet up with him. He was having an in-depth conversation with Motoki about the difference between Keio and Tokyo University when his pretty odangoed blonde skipped through the arcade door.

She was ever the whirlwind of brightness as she plopped down onto the stool next to him.

He turned to greet her but was taken slightly aback by the look of solid determination etched into her face. He knew that look, and he'd seen it hundreds of times. It usually didn't bode well for him, and his brows drew together into a wary frown as he mentally prepared himself for whatever she'd concocted in that pretty little blonde head of hers. _At least this time she wasn't clutching a feral raccoon._

She cleared her throat and tilted her head upwards in preparation for whatever it was that she was about to say. "Mamo-chan," she began, and he was startled, once again, by the seriousness in her tone. "I think I know what's going on," she said, her stare steady and her voice stern.

He couldn't help but smile, actually, because she looked adorable when she decided to get all serious like that. "What do you mean, Usa? Going on with what?" he asked, amused, as he lifted his coffee mug to his lips to take a sip of the bitter brew that Motoki had just poured for him.

He noted that her hands were nervously fiddling with the drawstring of her pale purple sweater, and his smile faded away because she was acting strangely nervous. "I know why you've been so weird lately, and I think I have a solution," she said, with resolute fortitude.

His brow furrowed, and he shook his head in confusion. "What are you talking about, Usa?" he asked and glanced sideways at Motoki that had also stopped and was watching Usagi with confused curiosity written on his face.

She took a deep breath, "I think that you and I should go on a date," she said, and the ceramic mug that he'd been holding froze mid-air, halfway to his lips, as his eyes widened in disbelieving shock.

Of all of the things that he had expected her to say, that was _not_ it, and his heart began to hammer, almost painfully, against his ribcage. _Had he heard her correctly?_ He must have, because he heard Motoki inhale sharply beside him, too, though he didn't risk glancing at the arcade part-timer's expression, as he was unwilling to pull his shocked gaze away from Usagi's stoic face.

He wasn't sure what to say, and most of his words tangled up on his tongue. "What?" he managed to blurt, his tone hoarse and disbelieving.

She graced him with a warm smile, though, he noted miserably that it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I think we should go on a date," she repeated firmly. "I have the perfect girl for you. Her name is Mizuno Ami, and, Mamo-chan, she's smart. Just like you!" Usagi exclaimed, and his mind was a whir of confusion that was having a difficult time wrapping around the words she was saying. "She's pretty and sweet, and she wants to be a doctor, too."

It took a moment to register the fact that Usagi was singing some other girls praises, which completely contradicted her original statement. So, admittedly, he was quite confused and in dire need of some clarification. Because, if she didn't clarify what she meant, his heart was most certainly going to explode in his chest.

His frown deepened, and he slowly lowered his cup and placed it carefully onto the countertop. "What are you talking about?" he demanded, and his voice sounded raspier than he intended.

Usagi frowned, then sighed. "What do you mean?" she questioned impatiently. "I'm talking about going on a double date. You and my friend, Ami-chan, and me and Seiya," she said, and his heart dropped with devastating disappointment. _Was she serious?_

"So, what do you think?" she asked, her eyes wide and expectant as she peered up at him. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that she was trying to set him up on a date with another girl, that she planned to attend with another guy. So, he was a little slow in keeping up with her.

He shook his head, the multitude of emotions raging through him positively crushing. "Think about what?" he murmured dumbly, his tone strained and laced with incredulity.

Her eyes were filled with concern now, and her frown intensified as she tilted her head to the side inquisitively. "Are you all right, Mamo-chan?" She questioned worriedly. "I asked what you thought about my double date idea?" She repeated firmly.

He opened and closed his mouth wordlessly twice before finally responding. "If - if that's what you want, Usako," he replied, slightly breathless as his throat was painfully constricted and dry. This was the very _last_ thing he wanted. He could barely conceive the idea without his stomach churning but, he needed to know. Was this _really_ what she wanted?

His heart stopped at the smile that lit up her face. "Oh! Great! It will be so fun, Mamo-chan," she exclaimed and slid off of the stool in front of him. "This way, we can both be dating someone, and then we can go on double dates together! And I _really_ think you'll like Ami-chan," she said brightly, each word like a painful stab into his heart. "I'm just going to call her, Mamo-chan!" she said, and in a flurry of fabric and blonde hair, she left as quickly as she'd come.

He stared after her disappearing figure for a moment, still in shock, before he turned back towards the counter and met Motoki's horrified gaze. His sandy-haired friend shook his head, his eyes filled with pained sympathy. "Whoa, dude…" he murmured in quiet commiseration.

Motoki's reaction broke him out of his daze and with an anguished groan, Mamoru buried his head in his hands. "Don't say it, Motoki," he whispered harshly through his fingers. "Don't say another damn word," he spat, feeling slightly nauseated.

Motoki didn't say anything else, though he heard him sigh sadly as he moved away. This was starting to get out of hand. How could Usagi possibly think that the way to fix this was by setting him up on a date that wasn't with her?

It would seem that Motoki was right, after all. His little ball of sunshine, smart and sweet, was utterly clueless.

oOo


	9. Chapter 8

**AN:** Hello! A new update! YAY! Only two more chapter to go after this one! Don't be mad at Usagi and Mamoru- I think it's pretty clear that these silly little idiots are not very good at communicating. Also, don't be mad at me for writing them!

Thank you to everyone that takes the time to review. You're all so super awesome, and motivate me to write.

As usual, all my love to the prettiest, strongest and most fantastic bae-tas in the whole entire universe. **Ninjette Twitch and Revy679.** Are they supportive? YES. Are they awesome? DOUBLE YES. Should you read their stuff?! ABSOLUTELY YES!

Anyways, if you like it. Review. If not... well, the slow burn isn't for everyone ;)

 **Chapter 8**

There was something wrong with her. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was a horrible, strange, uneasy feeling that she couldn't quite get rid of. She'd been fighting the uncomfortable feeling all week, and, if she were really honest with herself, she knew that it had something to do with her impending double date. _Which was ridiculous._ The whole thing had been her idea. after all. But as the week had progressed, she couldn't help the doubts that began to surface.

She sighed, a frown creased onto her brow as she absentmindedly helped her mother prep maki rolls for dinner tonight. A dinner that she would not be attending as the day of their double date had finally arrived. A date that she'd almost called off. _Twice_.

Her frown deepened, and she swallowed nervously. Why _did_ this bother her so much? It couldn't be Seiya. She'd enjoyed her first date with him. He'd been sweet, respectful, and he made her laugh. She'd been a little disappointed by the lack of spark between them, though she blamed that on her fanciful notions and having watched way too many romantic comedies. No, the reason that she was feeling uneasy was because of Mamo-chan.

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. She'd thought, at first, that Mamoru had just been worried about her. He'd always been super protective, and she figured, especially after the dinner blow-out, that he was just looking out for her. But then things had changed a little bit, and she'd begun to wonder, as her first date had approached if maybe Mamoru was being less protective and more worried that he was losing her as a friend.

The tuna roll that she'd been working on unraveled because her fingers flexed with the thought and clenched tightly around it. She exhaled deeply with frustration. It had made perfect sense to her and, in all of her wisdom, she'd come up with a plan. If Mamoru were dating one of her friends, then it wouldn't be weird if all _four_ of them hung out together!

Which was what had been going through her mind when she'd suggested it. It was the perfect solution, and she'd felt pretty proud of herself at first. However, as the week progressed, and the day of the actual double date approached, she couldn't help the strange, uneasy feeling that began to unfurl uncomfortably in her chest.

She couldn't figure it out. _Ami-chan was perfect for him_. They had similar goals, almost identical personalities, and she knew they'd get along famously. So, why did she get a strange irritated feeling in the pit of her stomach when she thought about them _actually_ being together?

"Usagi, do you need help?"

Her mother's soft-spoken question pulled her from her thoughts, and her head snapped up to meet her mother's gentle gaze over the cedar wood butcher block in the kitchen where they stood across from each other. There was a knowing look in her eyes, a soft half-smile splayed out on her lips as she fixed her gaze onto Usagi's face.

Usagi smiled ruefully. "Sorry, Mama," she replied apologetically. "I'm just having trouble focusing, apparently," she murmured and carefully unrolled the mess she'd made to restart from scratch.

Ikuko raised a questioning purple-tinged eyebrow and tilted her head to the side. Her lavender locks fluttered and tumbled over her shoulder as she carefully considered her next words. "It's all right, darling," she responded sweetly. "Are you thinking about your date tonight?" She questioned, her tone tentative and her expression carefully guarded as her fingers deftly manipulated the nori.

Usagi frowned. "Yes, I guess so," she murmured with a shrug. She wished that she was more excited than she actually was, and when she'd suggested it a week ago, she had been.

She'd been texting Seiya all week, and he'd even walked her home on Monday when Mamoru was doing his school stuff. He'd quickly met her mother in passing, and he'd been every bit the gentleman. He was a really nice guy, too. So why did she feel _so_ weird about _this_?

They were silent for a moment as they worked until Ikuko cleared her throat again. "So, whose idea was it to go on a double date?" She prodded gently, though Usagi could hear the curiosity laced into her well-meaning question.

With a small smile, Usagi shrugged. "It was my idea," she replied. "Mamo-chan was acting strange about my date with Seiya…" she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, forcibly ignoring the weird twinge in her chest as she spoke. "Well, you remember dinner. I think that maybe he's worried I won't have as much time to spend with him if I'm dating someone else," she reasoned. "Which, is crazy, of course," she murmured that last part under her breath. She had no intention of giving up any of her time with Mamoru.

The thought elicited another thoughtful frown because if she _really_ thought about it, she would never choose a date with Seiya over time spent with Mamoru. "Plus, if I am going to keep dating Seiya, I want Mamo-chan to get along with him," she added, almost as an afterthought. If Mamoru didn't get along with Seiya… well, there just wasn't any point in thinking about what she would do about that right now.

Her mother's gaze fixed firmly onto Usagi. "I see," Ikuko acknowledged softly, and for some reason, her mother's response paired with the probing look in her eyes, elicited a blush that made her shift uncomfortably under her mother's gaze. "Well, darling. I think you'll have a wonderful time. He's quite handsome," Ikuko gushed brightly.

Usagi smiled in response. "Yeah, he is. Ami-chan will think he's handsome, too," she responded, as an image of her raven-haired best friend, smiling, popped into her head.

Ikuko coughed in a failed attempt to suppress a laugh. "I was actually referring to Seiya, darling," she said, her tone laced with amusement, with a warm, knowing smile on her lips. "But, yes. Mamoru is very handsome," she exclaimed and turned back to the food, as she furtively pretended not to notice the startled look in Usagi's widened eyes.

Usagi's face felt like it was on fire, and her fingers froze, promptly allowing another roll to unravel. Of course, her mother had meant Seiya. He was also very handsome, though, when she pictured Seiya in her mind she did not feel the same fluttering sensation in her chest that she did when she thought about Mamoru. Surely it was because she knew him so well. She'd always felt this way about Mamoru, hadn't she?

Ikuko's smile widened as she carefully regarded Usagi, who had yet to respond. "Either way," she began knowingly, her expression soft and sympathetic. "I'm thrilled Mamoru will be there with you tonight, darling." Usagi's eyes were wide as they locked into her mother's gentle gaze. "I never have to worry when you're with Mamoru. Ever since you were both little, he always made sure you were safe," she voiced carefully, with a warm smile.

Usagi pressed her lips together tightly, her face burning with a warm blush, as she visibly swallowed and nodded.

It was true. Mamo-chan had always been protective of her, and it did make her feel safe. The strange pang in her chest intensified as it was now accompanied by the fluttering feeling that she now associated solely with Mamo-chan. She cleared her throat, and her fingers shook as she forced herself to concentrate on the food in front of her.

There was just no point in digging deeper into whatever that was. This was bound to happen, anyway. Mamo-chan had always been, for lack of a better word, _hers._ So, of course, she would have misgivings about him dating others. Even dates that she'd been responsible for arranging. He'd probably had the same thoughts when she'd announced that she was going on a date with Seiya. Besides, Mamoru had always treated her the exact same way. There was not any indication that he might… she let those uncomfortable thoughts trail off into nothing. There was no reason to delve into any of that.

They would go on this double date, that she'd arranged, and have a fantastic time. Then everything would go back to normal.

No more awkwardness or fluttering feelings. It would just be like it had always been. He was her best friend, after all.

oOo

She'd decided to meet everyone at the American restaurant, Soul Food House, which was one of her and Mamoru's favorites. It was a more casual atmosphere, and so she'd opted to dress in jeans this time. Which she probably would have done even if they'd chosen a fancier location. She'd felt so uncomfortable in that black dress on her first date. It had been too tight, and too short; which was just asking for trouble when the person wearing it was very prone to falling at least once an hour.

Either way, Minako had been ecstatic as she'd gifted the garment to her, and she vowed only to wear what she felt comfortable in. Which she was now promptly regretting, as Ami-chan, who stood gracefully poised in front of the restaurant when she arrived, looked absolutely stunning.

Her lapis colored dress was modest, but it fit her like a glove and accentuated all of the curves that Usagi hadn't even known existed on the quiet, demure girl that had only ever dressed in conservative outfits before.

Usagi smiled brightly at her friend as she approached, even as her heart skipped an unwanted beat, accompanied by a churning feeling in the pit of her stomach that she didn't understand.

The blunette's eyes lit up warmly, and she lifted a slender hand and tentatively waved. "Oh, thank goodness you're here," she said shyly, her tone laced with relief. "I tend to show up to these things very early to avoid being late. Unfortunately, that also gives me a ton of time to worry about silly things," Ami laughed, her cheeks tinged a beautifully becoming shade of pink as her smile widened.

Usagi nodded. It made sense that Ami would be punctual. The bluenette was always on time for everything. Just like Mamo-chan, who was always scolding her for being late to things. He was going to love Ami-chan.

Usagi ignored the pang in her chest at the unwilling comparison and forced a smile on her face. "Oh, you don't have anything to worry about, Ami-chan!" Usagi exclaimed with a wave of her wrist. "You look so beautiful!" She admired with genuine warmth laced into her tone.

Ami blushed prettily. "Thank you, Usagi-chan," she murmured, her cheeks reddening with embarrassment. "You look beautiful as well. As usual," she praised with a quiet sincerity that made Usagi smile.

Ami-chan was indeed a beautiful person that Usagi genuinely admired. If there was anyone that would fit with Mamo-chan, it was undoubtedly Ami. She resolved to ignore the strange feeling that threatened to sour this evening, and she carefully locked away all of the peculiar misgivings at the back of her mind as she twisted her body around to scan the parking lot.

Usagi frowned, feeling disconcerted. It was not often that she was early. "The boys should be here soon, Ami-chan," she reassured the bluenette with a quick sideways glance. "Then we can go in!"

Ami nodded, an indulgent and patient smile on her lips. "That's fine, Usagi-chan, there's no rush," she assured in that soft, gentle tone of voice.

Usagi took a moment to study her friend. Ami was so poised and dignified. Even the way she stood held a muted grace that she couldn't imitate if her life depended on it. These were qualities that she'd always admired and loved about her friend, but, a foreign pang of resentment coursed through her. It caught her off guard, and she felt an embarrassed heat creep up her neck and spread across her face as she forcibly stamped the unwanted feeling down.

She cleared her throat and forced a smile onto her face, as she fully turned towards Ami. "Are you excited, Ami-chan? I really think you'll love Mamo-chan. He's honestly just the greatest guy," she gushed excitedly. "He's so smart, just like you!"

Ami tilted her head to the side, her brow creased into a small frown. "I'm sure he's wonderful, Usagi-chan," she responded softly.

Usagi could feel her face heat up even more, and the feeling in the pit of her stomach was churning, and quite frankly, it was irritating. What was wrong with her?

She nodded enthusiastically, "And he's very protective, and sweet, too. He spends a lot of time studying, but he will always make sure to spend time with you," she exclaimed, and she really meant to sing Mamo-chan's praises, but the thought suddenly made her miserable.

Ami's frown melted away, and her eyes softened as a knowing smile curled onto her lips. She gently placed a slender hand on Usagi's arm. "Usagi-chan, this is only one date," she said softly, her tone laced with contrite sympathy. "Are you _sure_ you want to do this double date thing?" She questioned, her expression filled with a knowing understanding that made Usagi blink and freeze in confusion. "Because, in all honesty, it would be all right if it was just friends hanging out. It's not necessary to call this a date."

Usagi's brows drew together, and she shook her head in confusion. "I don't understand, Ami-chan," she murmured. "I promise that you will like Mamo-chan," she replied, her tone a bit harsher than she'd intended. Who _wouldn't_ like Mamo-chan?

Ami sighed, and shook her head. "No, I'm sure he's fantastic, Usagi-chan. Trust me, you've told me how amazing he is… several times," she laughed warmly. "I'm just not sure if you want this," she practically whispered, her tone hesitant.

Usagi's frown deepened, and she opened her mouth to reply, but she was promptly interrupted by the sight of Mamoru approaching over Ami's shoulder.

He looked so very handsome in tapered jeans and a white button down shirt, as his unkempt ebony hair ruffled in the wind. He was walking slowly, his steps uncertain, his hands buried in his pockets and his gaze trained on the ground in front of him. She knew Mamoru very well, maybe better than she knew herself, which was why she knew that he was uncomfortable, nervous and that this was the very last place that he wanted to be.

That bothered her for a slew of different reasons. She wanted him to have fun. That was one of the reasons she'd arranged this in the first place. "Mamo-chan!" she exclaimed brightly and waved him over. His gaze snapped up to meet hers, and she graced him with her warmest smile.

She was pleased when his stance relaxed slightly, and he returned her smile with a tentative one of his own. "Usako," he said, his tone light with amusement as he stopped just beside Ami. "Are you actually on time?" he teased, his voice laced with laughter.

She blushed, but her smile widened, and she felt like the tension was seeping out of her shoulders for the first time today. She giggled and shrugged, "I _am_ capable of showing up to things on time, baka!" she replied, and tilted her chin up with contrived indignation. He raised an eyebrow and smirked. She rolled her eyes, "Okay, fine! I am capable of showing up on time, _sometimes,"_ she amended playfully.

Ami cleared her throat, and there was an amused smile, and a knowing look etched onto the blunette's face. Usagi smiled apologetically, "Right. Sorry! Mamo-chan," she began with a smile. "This is my friend Mizuno Ami!" she introduced and watched as the blunette turned towards her best friend.

Ami offered Mamoru a friendly smile. "It's very nice to meet you, Mamoru-san," she said politely. "I've heard endless things about you from Motoki-san, Mako-chan, and Rei-chan," she said with raised eyebrows and an expectant half-smile.

Usagi frowned as Mamoru's eyes widened a little and the two exchanged a look that she didn't understand.

Mamoru chuckled and shrugged. The tension that she'd sensed in him earlier completely dissipated now. "It's very nice to meet you as well, Ami-san, " he replied, and his tone was low, gentle, and kind of annoying actually. "Hopefully they've told you only the good things," he joked before he turned and gave Usagi a sideways glance, cobalt blue eyes filled with his usual warmth. "Cause, you know, if not. It's probably best if I fill you in," he said, his tone hesitant and resigned. Usagi frowned as she tried to decipher their strange interaction. She couldn't help but think that she was missing something.

Ami laughed softly in response, "Oh, there's no need, Mamoru-san," Ami said with a dazzling smile and a nod of her head. "But since we're here, I would love to pick your brain about what courses you took that looked best on your transcript when applying to University. Usagi-chan told me that you plan to study medicine?"

Just like that, Mamoru and Ami became lost in a conversation that she didn't understand at all. She was pleased to see her friends get along. At least, she really _wanted_ to be pleased about it. She refused to let those stupid resentful feelings claw their way to the forefront of her mind.

She was going to interrupt them, and suggest they go inside to wait for Seiya, when the boy in question sidled up beside her, slightly breathless, with a warm smile on his face. "Hey! So sorry I'm late, Usagi-chan. I got a little caught up in band practice," he apologized, his gaze warm as he peered down at her.

She nodded with a smile, "That's alright," she responded, then turned back to Mamoru and Ami who'd gone silent and were watching them. Ami's eyes were filled with confused curiosity, and Mamoru's expression was guarded as his eyes swept over Seiya.

There was suddenly a strange tension in the air, and Usagi suppressed a sigh because she couldn't decipher it, and quite frankly, she was tired of being confused. "Seiya-san, these are my friends, Mizuno Ami, and Chiba Mamoru," she introduced, gesturing towards the pair in front of her.

Seiya smiled, though Usagi noted it didn't quite reach his eyes as his gaze locked onto Mamoru. "Hello, it's nice to meet you. Usagi-chan talks about you quite a bit," he said, and Usagi frowned. _Did_ she talk about Mamoru a lot?

Mamoru's smile was just as shallow as Seiya's as he met his eyes with an even, hardened cobalt stare of his own. "Does she? She's mentioned you once or twice," he responded with a laugh that was clearly very forced.

She felt Seiya stiffen beside her, and he laughed too, though Usagi noted that it was just as forced as Mamoru's. Her eyes narrowed in confusion as her gaze snapped from one boy to the other. _What on earth was happening?_

Seiya casually draped an arm over her shoulder, suddenly, and it startled her because he'd never done that before. "Well, should we go in?" he asked lightly, before peering down at her with a lopsided grin. "Ready to go in, Usagi-chan?" he murmured softly, his voice low and tender.

He was acting strange, and she nodded slowly, feeling incredibly confused as Seiya nodded in response then placed his hand on the small of her back and urged her forward. She caught a glimpse of Mamoru and Ami's expressions over her shoulder as they followed, and though Mamoru's face was unreadable, Ami's was soft and sympathetic as she stared at Mamoru.

What had she missed? Her heart began to race nervously as she allowed Seiya to lead her into the restaurant. _Did they not like Seiya?_ They barely knew him! She furtively peered up at her long-haired date and studied his profile. His expression mirrored Mamoru's. _Did Seiya not like Mamoru?_

Her mind was racing with the horrifying possibility that Mamoru and Seiya might not get along that she barely noticed that they were being escorted to their table by a brown-haired waitress with blue eyes and a welcoming smile.

The tension didn't ease when they were seated, her across from Mamoru and beside Seiya, who had scooted his chair so close to hers, that their thighs practically touched beneath the table.

With a smile, the waitress pulled a notepad out of the pocket of a black apron cinched around her waist. "My name is Koharu, I'll be your server today. The Menus are in front of you, I can give you guys a minute to look through that… can I start you off with some drinks?" She asked, and her gaze fell directly onto Seiya first.

He leaned forward and smiled back at the waitress. "Do you have milkshakes?" he asked, his tone velvety smooth and alluring.

The waitress blushed prettily, and it was clear that she was now enamored by her date. "Um, yes. We do. Vanilla, chocolate and strawberry," she practically purred, batting long, pretty eyelashes.

Usagi frowned and surreptitiously studied Seiya. He was very good-looking, and she could see why the waitress would be interested. Which, strangely, didn't really bother her at all.

He nodded with a friendly smile, before turning his warm gaze onto her. "Usagi-chan, do you want a milkshake?" he asked, and his tone was just as low and smooth as it had been when he'd spoken to the waitress.

The corners of her lips curled up into a smile, and she nodded. He turned back to the waitress, whose face had fallen slightly in disappointment. "Two chocolate milkshakes, please," he ordered, and the waitress's smile definitely dimmed in warmth as she quickly jotted it down.

Usagi inwardly cringed. She hated chocolate milkshakes, but she bit the inside of her lip to keep from saying anything.

"If that second milkshake is for Usagi, you might want to switch it to strawberry. She hates chocolate milkshakes," Mamoru stated firmly, though he didn't look up from his menu that he was intently perusing.

Seiya frowned, and Usagi grimaced guiltily as her date turned to her. "I thought you liked chocolate. You ate some on our first date," he asked, his tone laced with confusion.

She blushed and shrugged ruefully, "I love chocolate! Just not in milk," she replied with a nervous giggle.

Seiya's frown faded, and he laughed suddenly and shook his head with amusement. "You have the cutest quirks, Usagi-chan," he murmured tenderly, intensifying her blush, as he promptly changed the order with the waitress

The conversation was strangely strained afterward, awkward, and she couldn't help but shift in her seat nervously. _This was not going well._ She could not, for the life of her, figure out why.

She was on the verge of tears when suddenly Ami broke the tension by asking Seiya about his band. She'd learned a couple of things about Seiya in the short time since she'd known him. He was an extrovert, just like her, and more than anything, he was passionate about his music. It was a relief when he started talking, and Ami, her sweet, perceptive friend, knew all of the right questions to ask.

Soon, the tension had eased, the banter became light, and they were all laughing at Seiya's amusing anecdotes. Everyone except for Mamoru that, Usagi noted nervously, had yet to say very much.

He seemed comfortable enough, as he leaned back in his chair, his expression impassive, as he observed them. She knew Mamoru, and while he was generally _not_ a social person, there was something else that was apparently bothering him. She was sure it was because he didn't like Seiya and judging by the hard set of Seiya's expression every time he even acknowledged Mamoru, Seiya didn't like him either.

Which was not acceptable to her. Not at all. Mamoru was the most important person in her life. He was her best friend, and she _needed_ them to at least get along.

She was chewing her lower lip, lost in thought on ways to make this work when Seiya asked a question directed towards Mamoru. "What about you? What kind of music do you like?"

Usagi frowned because the content of the question had been innocent enough, but there was a strange, challenging undertone in Seiya's voice that she didn't quite understand.

Mamoru smirked and shook his head. "I'm not really a fan of music," he replied, his tone low and even as he regarded Seiya directly. Usagi knew this, of course. Mamoru didn't lean towards a particular genre of music, and if it were up to him, he would prefer the silence. She was a big K-pop fan though, and oftentimes he indulged her by letting her choose the music when they were together.

Seiya laughed, though it sounded more like a scoff. "What? Who doesn't like music!" He chuckled and, though she couldn't be sure, it almost sounded mocking. Which did not sit well with her at all.

Her frown deepened as she twisted her upper body around to face Seiya. "Not everyone likes music, Seiya," she scolded. "Besides, Mamo-chan needs to keep a clear head when he's studying. He's going to be a doctor, you know," she defended brightly.

Seiya's smile faded. "Of course, Usagi-chan," he murmured contritely, though there was small frown creased onto his brow. "I didn't mean that to be offensive in any way," he said, directing that last bit to Mamoru who merely shrugged. A wide grin on his face.

She instantly relaxed, relieved that Seiya hadn't really _meant_ to be mean and because Mamo-chan had finally relaxed, with a smile on his face.

She graced Seiya with a dazzling smile, "Of course you didn't!" she exclaimed brightly, her tone laced with laughter. "And actually, that isn't entirely true! There was one time I dragged Mamo-chan to a live concert! And we had so much fun," she gushed. She made Mamoru go to a lot of things that he didn't want to go to, but he always had a good time, and she distinctly remembered that he'd had fun at this particular concert.

She turned towards Mamoru whose expression was filled with amusement. "Do you remember that, Mamo-chan? What was the name of the band?" She questioned excitedly.

He smirked and shook his head. "I don't remember, Usa. We spent most of the night in the lineup," he replied, his tone tinged with laughter.

She laughed then, because she'd forgotten about that, and she spent the next several minutes telling Seiya and Ami the story of that night. She only noticed that she'd been monopolizing the conversation when the waitress finally arrived with their orders, and Seiya changed the subject to something else.

She felt significantly better about the evening, as she pulled her plate, Chicken, fries and assorted vegetables, towards her.

There was something distinct about Seiya, a certain charm that she was sure was very attractive, and she was musing about the alluring sound of his voice as she automatically scraped her carrots onto Mamoru's plate.

She was thinking about having a double date at the arcade next time so Mamoru would feel more comfortable, as she took Mamoru's fries off of his plate.

She hadn't realized that the conversation had stopped until Seiya loudly cleared his throat. Her gaze snapped up to his face, her eyes wide and startled, as she noted he was peering down at her with a frown. "Usagi-chan, er, what are you doing?" he questioned, his tone tinged with curiosity.

She arched a golden brow in confusion. "What do you mean?" She questioned, as she tilted her head to the side and studied his expression. Maybe she'd missed something important he'd said?

Seiya laughed, though, this time, it was a bit more uncomfortable. "With your food?" he questioned.

Her brows drew together into a frown as she turned to look down at her plate before her gaze met Mamoru's, who was grinning, and Ami, who was also watching with unfettered amusement.

Usagi blinked in confusion then turned back to her perplexed date that was still waiting for her to respond. "Well, I don't like the carrots, and Mamo-chan doesn't like the fries. We always switch them," she explained, though her cheeks reddened a bit. It was just something that she'd always done automatically. Was that strange? Because she couldn't help but notice that Seiya was looking at her as if it were something unusual.

He smiled, though she noted the warmth didn't quite reach his eyes. "You can have my fries, if you want, Usagi-chan," he offered and pushed his plate towards her.

She inwardly cringed as she stared down at his plate. She couldn't take his fries, but how could she explain it to him without sounding strange.

"She won't eat your fries," Mamoru interjected. "They touched your steak. Usagi can't stand beef. She says that she can taste the smell of it," he added, and Usagi met his gaze that was filled with warmth and amused tenderness that made her blush even more.

She laughed and playfully stuck her tongue out at Mamoru. "Make fun all you want! But it's true!" she exclaimed, as she pointed her fork at Mamoru in a faux-threatening manner. Mamoru chuckled as he speared one of the carrots she'd given him, and promptly ate it.

It suddenly occurred to her that there was not a single thing about her that Mamoru didn't know, and not only that, but he didn't think her habits were stupid or silly.

Seiya's smile was slightly strained as he nodded and leaned back into his seat and began to eat as well, and Usagi's laughter faded fairly quickly when she noticed that something else had shifted in the atmosphere around them.

They ate in silence for a moment, and she fixed her gaze onto her food, as her heart suddenly began to race. She bit her lower lip and tightened her fingers around the fork that came with eating an American meal, as her stomach began to churn. There was something very wrong. She liked Seiya. She truly did. And she could envision herself dating him and eventually developing feelings for him, too. She peered up and furtively studied Mamoru whose head was bent over his plate. But… there wasn't anybody in this world that understood her like Mamoru.

The familiar fluttering feeling began to unfurl in her chest when Ami leaned forward suddenly and broke the silence with another question about transcripts and exams for Mamoru. Seiya had gone silent, as well, and they both observed the conversation between her two friends.

Mamoru was extraordinarily patient and answered all of Ami's questions with a sincere interest, and an easy smile that suddenly made her feel miserable as her gaze alternated between examining Ami's bright, enthusiastic expression and Mamoru's gentle, indulgent one.

She averted her eyes, her face burning, as she tried to get a grip on all these unwanted feelings. It made sense for Ami and Mamoru to be together. She was so beautiful and graceful. Ami-chan had probably never tripped just walking in a straight line before, and she'd tripped doing just that on her way to the restaurant.

She was drowning in her insecurities suddenly, as she lifted her eyes to scrutinize the blunette again. She barely understood what they were talking about. It was probably refreshing for Mamo-chan to speak with someone whose thoughts ran along the same lines as his.

 _Stupid, perfect Ami._

She swallowed around the painful lump of mortification that settled in her throat at the horrible, unbidden thought. She'd arranged this. She'd been the one to beg the blunette to come, even though Ami had initially declined. _What was wrong with her?_

She suddenly felt the urge to cry, and barely managed to keep up with the conversation around her as the waitress arrived and cleared their plates. The rest of the date was an awkward, confusing blur for Usagi until it was time to leave the restaurant, and the foursome made their way out onto the walkway outside.

Seiya turned to her, his expression soft, a small smile on his lips. "I'll walk you home, Usagi-chan," he offered, and she forced a smile onto her lips and nodded mutely.

"How are you getting home, Ami-chan?" Mamoru asked the blunette, and Usagi's eyes were wide, her posture stiff, as she watched them.

Ami smiled up at _her_ best friend, with a shy smile. "I'm not far from here, Mamoru-san. I'm walking, but you don't need to walk with me," she said softly, with a dismissive wave.

Mamoru shook his head, "No. I'll walk with you, honestly. It's dark out here," he insisted, and his tone left no room for argument.

Usagi crossed her arms around her midsection, her eyes downcast, as Mamoru turned towards her. "Goodnight, Usa. I'll see you tomorrow," he murmured, and she forced a smile on her face and wordlessly nodded as his gaze fixed onto Seiya with an undecipherable stare. "It was nice to meet you," Mamoru said politely.

Seiya nodded in response, "You as well, Mamoru-san," he responded, his tone soft and resigned.

Ami said her goodbyes as well, and Usagi watched miserably as the pair turned and made their way down the walkway into the opposite direction. They'd gotten along so well. Their date was a success. The thought made her even more despondent when she should have been delighted.

She was pulled from her inner thoughts by Seiya, who gently laid his hand on her arm to get her attention. "Are you ready to go?" he questioned, and his tone was tentative.

She cleared her throat, shook her head and forced a smile onto her face. "Yes! I'm so sorry. Let's go," she apologized with a forced lightness in her tone as they turned and made their way down the practically deserted paved sidewalk towards her house.

It was a clear night, and the moon hung over them, though the light pollution prevented them from seeing any of the twinkling stars in the night sky. They walked in silence, though she barely noticed as her thoughts were swirling with thoughts of the friends they'd parted ways with. Would Mamoru and Ami go on several dates now? Would they kiss goodnight?

She wasn't sure why it bothered her so much if they did. In fact, she wasn't sure why she felt so… so _jealous_. She exhaled a breath of misery with the internal admission. That's what was wrong with her. She was _jealous._ Which was so ridiculous.

She furtively peered over at Seiya as they walked, and quietly studied his profile. His gaze was fixed firmly ahead of him, his expression inscrutable with his hands buried in his jean pockets. She _liked_ Seiya. Maybe she was uncomfortable that her best friend would get his first kiss before her? She inwardly grimaced at the petty thought.

It wasn't much longer before they reached her front door, and the glow of the porch light washed over them. She couldn't help but notice that there was a strained tension between them as she twisted around to face her date, who was peering down at her with an uncertain expression on his face. She suppressed a sigh, uncrossed her arms and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. It was her fault, of course. She'd let herself get all caught up, and had unintentionally gone silent on him.

Seiya cleared his throat, and uncomfortably scratched the back of his head. "Usagi-chan…" he trailed off nervously.

Her breath hitched in her throat, and panic began to bubble up in her chest. She liked Seiya. She really did, and Mamoru was probably kissing Ami-chan right now. The thought pushed her over the edge and, without thinking, she propelled herself to the tips of her toes with the intention of pressing her lips onto his.

Seiya inhaled sharply, and his hands firmly clasped her shoulders, as he gently pushed her away before she could close the gap in between them. Her heart sank, and her face began to burn hotly with the sharp sting of his rejection.

He grimaced and took a step back as he ran a hand uncomfortably through his hair. "Usagi-chan. I'm sorry," he murmured apologetically, and she wished that the ground would open up and swallow her whole as hot tears of embarrassment welled in her eyes. "I really like you," he breathed, and his expression was filled with a regretful longing that she didn't understand. "Damn, I _really_ like you, but this is just not going to work for me," he stated with an apologetic smile.

She swallowed around the lump in her throat and bit her lip to suppress the whimper of mortification that threatened spill from her mouth.

She nodded wordlessly, and he sighed sadly, leaned over and gently kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry, Usagi-chan. I hope that one day we can be friends," he whispered, his tone hopeful.

His words barely registered, and she shook her head and stepped away from him as she trembled with the humiliation, and clenched her eyes shut. _What had she been thinking?_

He didn't say another word, as she felt him sweep past her. She didn't turn around to see if he'd completely disappeared from view because when she finally opened her eyes, her vision blurred and the tears that she'd managed to hold back fell and slid down her cheeks.

She'd ruined something great, hadn't she? Why did she feel so stupid? She was overwhelmed by the swirling emotions tearing through her, and something painful was pressing in on her chest. She needed something, though, she wasn't sure what…

She choked on a miserable sob of self-pity because she knew exactly what she needed. She needed to see Mamo-chan.

It didn't make any sense, but her feet, practically of their own accord, began to move, and before she knew it she was striding down the darkened back pathway that wound up to Mamoru's apartment complex. What if he was still with Ami-chan? What if they decided to do something after dinner? She whimpered miserably at the thought. What if she was at his apartment, _right now_?

It was only when she stood under the fluorescent glow of the light fixtures in the hallway in front of Mamoru's apartment door that she began to think clearly. She hated that she felt nervous about coming to see Mamoru. When had things changed between them? Though, Mamoru hadn't changed at all. He was still the same, sweet, reliable, totally gorgeous friend that he'd always been. It was her. Something had changed for her.

She lifted her hand and, after only a moment of hesitation, she softly knocked. If he didn't answer, she would walk away, go home, and forget all about this. She had to… Mamoru was _her person._ She couldn't risk changing things.

She didn't have to go home though, because his door flew open, and she was greeted by Mamoru with a look of tender concern on his face. "Usako?" He said, his tone tinged with confusion. "Are you okay?" he questioned worriedly as he took a quick step towards her, and gently grasped her shoulders.

She wasn't sure what her intention had been, in coming here. She hadn't planned what she would say, though in her mind she imagined smiling brightly and skipping past him into the apartment with the pretense of just wanting to hang out.

She tried to smile up at him, but she found that she couldn't manage, and instead she crumpled forward into his arms, curling her fingers into the fabric of his shirt and sobbing into his chest. She knew it was over the top, it was such a dramatic reaction, but she couldn't help it.

He wrapped his arms around her, and gently pulled her into the apartment. It was such a relief when he wrapped a steely arm around her waist and tenderly tucked her head beneath his chin, softly stroking her hair with the other hand. He'd held her like this many times, on several different occasions, but this time it was _different_. Or, at least, it felt different to her, and that only made her cry harder.

"Usako, what happened?" he demanded, his tone raspy and filled with concern.

She couldn't stop her lower lip from quivering, or the whimpers that bubbled up her throat, when she tried to respond. "It's … Seiya. He… he… he…" she choked on her words in between sobs. She felt his body tense beneath her fingers, and he inhaled sharply as he suddenly cradled her face in his hands and forcibly tilted her face upwards to meet his gaze.

Her breath caught in her throat and her heart skipped a beat as she peered into his eyes. They were only inches apart, but his expression was hard, and his eyes darkened with anger. "Did he touch you, Usako?" he demanded hoarsely, and she trembled at the ferocity in his tone.

His words elicited a new onslaught of tears. "No," she whimpered. "Why… why would he?" she cried miserably, and Mamoru's hold eased a little, and his eyes narrowed in confusion. "He doesn't want me."

Her face reddened in humiliation, and she pulled away from him, took a step back, and crossed her arms over her chest protectively, as her nails dug into the soft skin of her arms. "Because, maybe I'm not smart enough, or graceful enough," she murmured under her breath, and she knew she wasn't talking about Seiya, now. She was comparing herself to Ami. The bluenette was perfect for Mamoru, and that bothered her because she didn't want Mamoru to like Ami.

Her eyes were downcast as she sniffled pitifully. She felt so pathetic and confused about everything. She was regretting her decision to come here because these strange feelings weren't Mamoru's fault. It was all her.

She was pulled, suddenly, from her pit of self-pity, when Mamoru stepped towards her and placed an index finger underneath her chin, and tilted her face up to meet his gaze. She blinked under the fierceness of his stare.

His expression was firm and filled with a gentle tenderness that made her want to melt. "Listen to me, Usako," he said with forceful determination. "You're beautiful, inside and out. If he can't see that, then he's a fool, and he doesn't deserve you," his tone was gruff with emotion.

She sniffled as her tears subsided, the warmth of his tenderly-spoken words washing over her in waves, and it was then that she became aware of how close they were. How she was pressed intimately against his chest, their gazes locked as their warm breath intermingled in between them. And how she suddenly wanted to kiss him.

With her heart hammering in the cavity of her chest, and her breath hitched painfully in her throat she almost leaned forward, ever so slightly, to press her lips onto his. But she stopped herself as the reality of the situation swiftly washed over her. This was Mamoru. He was her _best friend,_ and if she kissed him, it would change everything forever. For her anyways. She couldn't bear it if he didn't want to kiss her back. She could stand Seiya's rejection, but she would die if Mamoru rejected her.

She thought, for a brief moment, by the look in his eyes, that _maybe_ he wanted to kiss her too. She was wrong though, because he pulled away slightly, a red tinge on his cheeks, as he cleared his throat.

Her heart sank with disappointment as he pulled away, and took a step back from her. Her disappointment faded into confusion as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. "Mamo-chan, what are you doing?" she whispered, as she wiped away the remnants of tears and makeup on the back of her hand. She inwardly grimaced. She probably looked like a tear-stained mess.

His smile was tender, as he swiped a finger across the screen. "I'm calling your parents, Usako. Do they know you're here?" he asked gently, and her involuntary cringe was his answer.

He rolled his eyes, though the tender smile never left his face as she listened to him have a conversation with her mother. It was quick, though she could hear her mother gushing loudly on the other line, and it was her turn to roll her eyes when he finally hung up the phone.

"Usa," he began, his tone and expression indicating that she was going to get scolded. "You were supposed to be home 45 minutes ago. Make sure you tell your parents where you are," he admonished lightly, and she sighed loudly, and dramatically. Though, really, she was secretly pleased that her family, and what they thought, was so important to him. Because they were important to her, too.

He leaned forward and reached around her to open the front door. She was admittedly very confused and feeling pretty vulnerable actually as she peered at him with wide, sorrow-filled eyes. "Mamo-chan?" she questioned tentatively.

He held the door open and turned to face her with an adorable half-smirk on his face. "It's movie night, Usako. But, I'm all out of ice cream," he said softly and offered her his hand. "What about a late night trip to the conbini for some snacks?"

Her frown faded, and a tentative smile curled onto her lips as she accepted his hand and he pulled her out into the hallway. She nearly tripped but, as usual, he automatically steadied her with a grin as he twisted around and locked the door behind her.

"So, you have two choices. We can watch resistance, you know that documentary on how you contribute to the spread of antibiotic-resistant bacteria," he began, and she groaned, as she rolled her eyes skyward.

"Ughhh, Ma _mo_ -chan," she complained, with a grimace on her face, as they moved down the hallway to the elevator.

He chuckled, "Or we can watch practical magic for the billionth time," he continued with amusement, and her eyes lit up excitedly.

"That option!" she squealed, bouncing onto the balls of her feet, as she clasped his arm in the elevator and rested her head on his shoulder. She knew that he was trying to make her feel better because that's what he'd _always_ done for her. She smiled softly, her gaze fixed thoughtfully onto the closed elevator doors. "Actually, Mamo-chan," she murmured. "I want to watch the documentary," she said because she wanted to please him, too.

"I was only kidding, Usako," he replied lightly, and she tightened her hold on his arm.

"I know, but I want to watch it," she stated with resolute determination as she tilted her head to peer up at him. "But only if we can get pocky and chiroru chocolate too! Like, lots of it!" she amended.

It was only later when they were sitting across from each other on the sofa with the various treats strewn in between them, that she silently allowed herself to study Mamoru. His brow was furrowed in concentration, as he was thoroughly focused on the science documentary that she barely understood. It was at that moment that she quietly admitted that the fluttering in her chest, the one that had become so prevalent every time she was with him, was the result of something else.

Mamoru was her very best friend, but all of a sudden, she wanted him to be more.

She anxiously chewed the end of a piece of pocky as she considered the ramifications of these feelings. She was generally a very impulsive person, and her very first instinct was to dive in head first, wrap her arms around his neck and passionately kiss him with a declaration of her feelings. But, this was Mamo-chan.

He was the most important person in her life, and, well, his feelings clearly hadn't changed for her. Plus, he liked to do things slow and cautiously. If she went too quickly, he'd pull away from her. So, instead, she quietly ate her candy and decided that she would wait. Because Mamo-chan was worth waiting for.

oOo


	10. Chapter 9

**AN:** SO! First of all, THANK YOU! To the reviewers, the followers and favoriters! I'm sorry to all my reviewers that I have no responded to personally yet. I promise you I will, because, like, your reviews give me LIFE?!

So this next chapter... Only one left after this one... and I'm not sure you guys will like this one but... What's better than a slow burn chapter? A slow-burn ANGSTY chapter! Because, I'm incapable of pure fluff, apparently. Anyways, don't be MAD!

As always, thank you to the beautiful Moonie, muse ladies of my life. **Ninjette Twitch** and **Revy679.**

And on with the show! Please review if you liked it... your comments give me life.

 **Chapter 9**

With midterms fast approaching, Mamoru found that the week that followed that disastrous double date with Usagi passed by in a blur. With the mounting assignment workload and the insurmountable amount of course work that needed to be studied and revised, he had opted to spend several evenings in the silence of his apartment, rather than the arcade.

This was usual for this time of year, and though he generally relished the challenges of school, admittedly, he missed spending time with Usagi. Though, his understanding, yet silly, Usako ensured to send him a detailed account of her days and evenings in the form of several selfies and text messages. Which, he reciprocated of course, though his messages were shorter and much less interesting, as the most exciting part about his days were usually her.

There hadn't been any other mention of Seiya, or their painful double date. Usagi was one of the most confident people he knew, and he never wanted to see her crumpled up broken-heartedly, tears staining her cheeks, as she sobbed with self-doubt, ever again. He'd been torn when she'd fallen into his arms that night. Torn between an immense relief that she was not going to be dating what's-his-face anymore, and rage that he'd dared to reject _her_ and make her feel this way.

Luckily, it seemed to be over, and things were relatively back to normal. He was relieved that it was Friday, as he'd promised Usagi that tonight would be study free and that he would meet her at the arcade, like usual.

Which he planned on doing right after his impromptu meeting with Sensei Saito who had requested to see him with only fifteen minutes left in the school day. He wasn't worried as he strode down the pristinely kept hallways of Moto Azabu high school towards the counselor's office, as he was sure that this meeting had something to do with his interview with Tokyo University.

He raked a hand through his hair, subconsciously straightened his tie before softly rapping his knuckles against the wooden door of his office. There was a muffled greeting from the other side that granted him entrance, and he turned the handle and slowly opened the door.

Sensei Saito was seated behind the desk, his thick horn-rimmed glasses perched on the tip of his nose as his gaze remained firmly fixed on an open document in front of him. "Chiba-san," he greeted, as he cleared his throat and gestured to the chair across from him. "Please, sit," he ordered politely.

Mamoru nodded and stepped over the threshold, the door automatically shut behind him, and the dull click resonated in the silence of the room. It was darker in the small space than usual, as Sensei Saito rarely turned on the light, and the sunshine that usually bathed the surfaces of the room from the lone window was absent as it was overcast and slightly dreary outside today.

The counselor had yet to look up as Mamoru slowly seated himself in the chair that Saito had indicated, and his body sank into the plush green cushion as he patiently waited for The Sensei to speak.

Finally, the counselor lifted his gaze to meet his. His expression was indecipherable as he used an index finger to adjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

Mamoru shifted in his seat, as Saito folded wrinkled, well-weathered hands in front of him and cleared his throat. "Chiba-san, I have something for you," he announced suddenly, as he leaned forward, unfolded his hands and carefully pushed a manila envelope across the desk towards him with the tips of his fingers.

Mamoru's' brow furrowed in confusion, as the cryptic gaze and the slow, deliberate manner with which the counselor was acting struck him as unusual. He wearily leaned forward and took the envelope from in front of him. It was hefty, and he lifted an eyebrow in question.

The counselor smiled softly, just the wisp of a curl on his thin lips, that deepened Mamoru's frown, "Open it please, Chiba-san," he demanded with an impatient wave of his hand.

Mamoru was feeling disconcerted at the counselors out of character behavior, but he tore his gaze from his face and fixed it onto the envelope that he carefully pulled open. The envelope made a crinkling noise as he reached in and pulled out the stack of glossy paper contents.

It took a moment to understand what he was looking at, but his eyes widened in confusion as his gaze perused the first paper with Harvard Universities insignia etched onto the top of what appeared to be an acceptance letter.

He shook his head in bewilderment and snapped his gaze back up to the smiling counselor. "I don't understand, Sensei," he blurted, his tone laced with confusion. "I didn't apply to Harvard University," he stated. Surely this was some kind of mistake. The deadline for University applications, even early acceptance, hadn't even closed yet. Not that he would have _ever_ applied to Harvard.

The counselors smile widened, and there was an excited glint in his eyes as he straightened his usually slumped shoulders proudly. "No you did not, Chiba-san," he began, as he leaned back in his chair and peered over the top of his glasses at him. "As I had advised you in a meeting a couple of weeks ago, there is a special international program that is specifically looking for exceptional students overseas."

Mamoru opened his mouth, prepared to interject with a protest, but Saito lifted a hand to silence him. "This is an incredibly rare opportunity, and I was tasked with selecting Moto Azabu's best candidates and submitting them," his tone was steady, serious and there was a stern expression carved into his features as he leaned forward. "Chiba-san, you were one of six students, in all of Tokyo, that was granted an early acceptance, with a full scholarship to this prestigious school," he said, and there was a pleading note in his tone that made Mamoru's stomach churn uneasily.

Mamoru cleared his throat uncomfortably, and slowly shook his head. "Forgive me, Sensei. I don't mean to be disrespectful as I am infinitely grateful for everything that you have done for me," he began, as he tried very hard to ensure that his voice did not falter. This _was_ an incredible opportunity, but he couldn't leave to study overseas. He forced himself to meet his Sensei's stare, which had softened slightly in disappointment. "But, I'm not interested in attending a school overseas," he stated firmly, with a conviction he hoped that he could adequately convey.

Saito didn't say anything as his expression hardened and he carefully regarded him. Mamoru swallowed nervously and shifted under his stare when the counselor finally sighed. "Chiba-san, are you _sure_ that this is what you want? I think it would be foolish for you to turn this opportunity down," he professed with a disbelieving vehemence in his tone that made Mamoru cringe.

Mamoru nodded, even as his fingers flexed around the offending piece of paper that he'd never asked for. "I'm certain that there are equally advantageous opportunities here," he murmured apologetically, as he genuinely did respect the great lengths that the counselor had gone to for him.

Saito inhaled deeply, with a disappointed shake of his head. "Very well, Chiba-san," he murmured as he straightened the papers on his desk, an indication that this appointment was coming to a close. "You have several weeks still, to reconsider. Which I genuinely hope that you do," he stated with finality as he leveraged the desk to wearily pull himself to his feet. Mamoru quickly followed suit. "Take that packet with you, read over it, before you make your decision. In the meantime, your appointment with Tokyo University admissions office is at 9 am tomorrow morning, Chiba-san," he stated firmly as he ambled around the desk, past Mamoru and clasped the door handle.

"I suggest that you do not miss this one," he warned softly as he pulled the door open, and gestured Mamoru forward, effectively dismissing him. "Otherwise, you'll find that the opportunities available to you here in Tokyo will quickly dwindle."

Mamoru nodded and bowed respectively. "I understand, Sensei," he replied remorsefully before stepping over the threshold into the hallway.

The door clicked shut loudly behind him, and he quickly shoved the envelope and Harvard stack of papers into his book bag. Admittedly, his mind was racing with the challenge and the opportunities that were presented to him if he were to go Harvard.

He felt his phone vibrate against his hip, and he adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder as he pulled the device from his pocket.

It was a text message from Usagi; ' _Ughh, Mamo-chan. I'm going to be late. I have detention, which is not my fault! See you at the arcade. Miss you!'_ Followed by her usual slew of emoticons.

The corners of his lips quirked up into an amused smile, and his heart skipped a beat in his chest, as he quickly decided that the challenges that came with loving Usagi Tsukino were much more appealing.

oOo

Though he'd promised Usagi that this would, in fact, be a study free night, he couldn't help but pull out one of his textbooks to half-heartedly peruse while waiting for her at the Arcade counter after school.

He only briefly noted that the arcade was not nearly as busy as it usually was on a Friday afternoon, as Motoki popped out of the kitchen while he expertly balanced some tall, clean, milkshake glasses on a tray.

The arcade part-timer smiled in greeting as he carefully placed the tray behind the counter and deftly swiveled around to pour freshly brewed coffee into a white ceramic mug. The steam curled into the air above the rim of the cup as he pushed it towards him.

Mamoru only spared a brief glance to his sandy-haired friend before fixing his gaze back onto his book. "Thanks, Motoki. Can you get a strawberry milkshake, too?" he ordered, as he turned the page, and shifted in his seat.

Motoki smiled, as he leaned over and pulled one of the glasses from the tray, his hands expertly crafting the requested beverage. Mamoru did not look up, but he could feel his friends gaze burning into him as he placed the milkshake down beside him with a resounding thud on the scuffed countertop.

He inwardly sighed when Motoki loudly cleared his throat. "So, I haven't seen you in a while," he ventured with a burning curiosity clearly evident in his tone.

Mamoru nodded absentmindedly as he continued to read. "Midterms," he murmured matter of factly, consciously choosing to ignore the question in Motoki's tone.

Motoki nodded, though his gaze narrowed and he impatiently drummed his fingers along the edge of the counter. "So… I heard that your date didn't go so well," he stated, his tone brimming with barely restrained curiosity.

Mamoru did lift his gaze to meet Motoki's at that statement, a frown furrowed on his brow. "Who told you that?" he questioned and grimaced at the thought that he'd been the source of gossip.

Motoki grinned sheepishly with a shrug. "One of the girls," he replied with a chuckle that elicited a scowl from Mamoru who promptly went back to reading his book and purposefully ignoring him.

The blonde leaned forward, his expression indulgently sympathetic as he regarded his raven-haired friend. "Man, you're killing me over here," he exclaimed with a long-suffering sigh that made Mamoru roll his eyes. "You need to tell her. I hate to see you like this," he stated, as he straightened his shoulders, with an imperious shake of his finger.

Mamoru slowly turned the page of his book and, with an elbow perched on the counter, brought the ceramic mug of black coffee to his lips and took a sip. "Mind your own business, Motoki," he murmured nonchalantly.

It was Motoki's turn to scowl, as he lifted his hands in mock surrender. "Look, all I'm saying is that ever since I met Reika -"

Mamoru looked up and interrupted him from behind his raised coffee cup. "Reika, as in the girl you met two weeks ago?" He questioned drily, an amused smirk on his lips.

Motoki's haughty expression melted into a scowl. "Well, it was love at first sight, and I've never been..." he trailed off as he noted, suddenly, that Mamoru was regarding him with raised eyebrows and a smirk he was trying to suppress.

Motoki huffed with irritation. "You know what? Forget it!" He exclaimed and threw his hands up

Into the air with exasperation. "Be miserable! In fact, I think the world would implode if the sullen, enigma that is Chiba Mamoru _actually_ smiled _!"_ He scoffed dramatically, which evoked an amused grin from Mamoru.

Mamoru placed his cup onto the counter and opened his mouth to respond when the air suddenly shifted beside him and a whirlwind, in the form of blonde hair and bubbly energy, plopped down onto the swivel stool beside him.

"What are you talking about?" Usagi exclaimed brightly with a dazzling smile that effectively took his breath away. "Mamo-chan smiles all the time! Best smile in the world!" She exclaimed with an adorable wink and a red tinge across her cheeks.

Mamoru responded with a warm chuckle which produced an eye roll and a groan of disbelieving disgust from Motoki who shook his head and stomped away.

Usagi's brows drew together into a confused frown, even as her lips curled into an amused half-smile. "What's with him?" She questioned, as she leaned towards him and the enticing smell of lavender and vanilla assaulted his senses.

Mamoru shrugged with a lopsided grin. "Who knows? Probably still wrapping his head around being in a serious relationship for a whole week," he joked loudly with mock-seriousness.

There was a muffled groan of frustration from beyond the kitchen threshold. " _Two_ , Chiba!" Motoki cried, and the indignant chords of his voice wafted in from the kitchen.

Usagi shook her head in confusion, though she giggled as she leaned over and pulled Mamoru's coffee cup towards her. She lifted the cup, took a deep breath, as if mentally preparing herself, then brought it to her lips, tilted her head back, and took a big gulp.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust, and Mamoru frowned with amused confusion. Usagi hated coffee. He knew for a fact that she despised the taste of the bitter brew that was an essential staple of his diet.

Usagi was in possession of a vast array of adorable quirks that amused and enchanted him in equal parts, and when they were younger, a girl in her class swore that coffee could make any ride go faster. Which was utterly ridiculous, but still, Usagi only drank coffee when…

"Oh God, the carnival is in town," Mamoru groaned in dismay, already preparing an internal dialogue of protest with reasons why they should _not_ go to the carnival this year.

Usagi's grin widened brightly. "Yes!" She exclaimed as she swiveled around, and leaned forward to reach into her book bag that she'd dropped onto the floor. She almost stumbled, but he automatically reached out and steadied her waist as she rummaged through the contents, clasped something in her hand, and excitedly twisted back around towards him.

He sighed mournfully as she forcefully smacked down a gaudily decorated flyer onto the counter in front of him. "The dead moon circus and carnival, in town, this weekend only!" She squealed excitedly. "We have to go tonight, Mamo-chan!" She professed loudly, as she clasped her hands in front of her in anticipation.

He couldn't suppress the grimace that crossed his face at the prospect. Every year she dragged him to one of these things, and every year ended in disaster. "No way, Usako," he murmured firmly with a curt shake of his head. "I'm not going this year. Can't you go with one of the girls?" He questioned, not exactly proud of the high-pitched plea present in his tone.

Her face fell, and she puckered her lips into a heart-melting pout that was, quite frankly, seriously unfair. "Mamo-chan," she murmured. "I don't _want_ to go with one of the girls. I want to go with you! I've missed you this week," she pleaded, her words tugging at his heartstrings. "Besides! We always have _fun_!" She exclaimed, and though her excitement was infectious, he couldn't help but shake his head in disbelief.

He raised an eyebrow, "You're kidding, right?" He questioned with an incredulous bark of laughter. "What about the time we went to the carnival, and I got food poisoning? Or the time before that, when that monkey from the show bit me, and I ended up needing a shot? _Or_ the time before _that_ when we got stuck on the Ferris wheel for three hours? Or-"

Usagi waved her hands in surrender to interrupt him. "Okay! So you don't have the greatest track record with carnivals!" She conceded with a wince. "But Mamo-chan," she leaned forward and suddenly wrapped slender fingers around his wrist. She perched herself precariously on the edge of her swivel stool, with her eyes wide and glistening brightly as she peered up at him. "I promise it will be different this time," she breathed softly, and his breath hitched in his throat as he couldn't help but admire the soft contours of her beautiful face, the enticing curl of ample lips, the slender curve of her neck, and the steady rise and fall of her chest. "Please?" She pleaded softly and, damn, it really _was_ unfair.

With a resigned sigh, his lips quirked into an accepting smile. " _Fine_ , Usako," he conceded, and the way her expression lit up made it worth it.

She squealed in delight, slid off of her stool, and wrapped her arms around his waist. She caught him off guard, and he stumbled back a little bit, but she steadied _him_ for a change and buried her head in his chest.

He chuckled, though his brow creased into a small frown of confusion as he twisted his upper body around, as he was still seated on the stool, and returned her embrace.

She tilted her face upwards, glossy blonde curls tickling his face with the movement, and his breath caught in his throat and his heart began to quicken at the unusual look in her eyes. "Mamo-chan…"

She breathed softly, and his confusion deepened as she visibly swallowed. The strange moment passed, and he watched, fascinated, as her blush intensified and she pulled away with a nervous giggle.

His heart skipped a painful beat as she leaned over him, and plucked his coffee cup off the counter. With a deep breath, she plugged her nose, closed her eyes and forcibly drank the rest of the cup's contents.

With a whoop, she slammed the cup down and flashed him a victorious smile. "Now the rides will be _really_ fast!" She exclaimed with a wink, and he rolled his eyes, the corner of his lips quirked into an amused half-smile. "And we'll go soon, after one game of Sailor V!" She declared brightly and twisted around towards the arcade games. "And don't think I didn't notice that you have a book in front of you, Mamo-chan! You're lucky you said yes to the carnival," She exclaimed over her shoulder with a wink, before whirling around and disappearing into the rows of games like a whirling hurricane of light.

He sighed, and turned back towards the counter, feeling slightly bewildered by Usagi's strange behavior.

"Hmmm… interesting."

Mamoru's gaze snapped up to meet Motoki's that had, at one point, re-emerged from the back and was currently wiping down the counter with a look of forced impassiveness on his face. Though Mamoru couldn't help but notice that his eyes were glinting with an amused, knowing look that made him scowl.

He wanted to ignore the part-timer and go back to his book, but admittedly he was curious, too. Which was amplified by the fact that he had not been the only one to notice a difference in Usagi today.

He exhaled with resignation and firmly fixed his eyes on Motoki's face. "What's interesting?" He demanded, his tone a little sharper than he'd intended.

Motoki grinned widely, "Well, looks like you might not be the only one developing _feelings_ if you ask me," he said slowly.

Mamoru's eyes widened, and he couldn't help the hitch in his breath or the way his heart stopped at his words. There was no way. _Was there?_

He shook his head, his face reddening as he cleared his throat. "Mind your business," he muttered gruffly, as he picked up the discarded coffee cup that Usagi had left on the counter. "Can I get another coffee, please?" He ordered, his words curt and annoyed.

Motoki merely chuckled in response before he happily plucked the coffee pot from the holder and poured the hot brew into Mamoru's cup.

The part-timer was pulled away by another patron, and Mamoru found that there was no way he could concentrate on the words of the opened, yet forgotten book in front of him as he hesitantly turned to scrutinize a bright-eyed, excited Usako from a distance.

She was all silky hair, pink-cheeked brightness with endlessly long legs as she focused on the game in front of her, and he wondered… no, fervently _hoped_ , that Motoki was right.

He wouldn't risk his friendship with her for anything in the world, but if there was a possibility, even a slight one, that she felt the same… he couldn't help the way his heart began to race excitedly, though he couldn't quite manage to finish the thought.

He exhaled slowly and lifted his cup of coffee to his lips. If there were more moments like the one that had just happened, then surely there was a chance...

He sighed, and couldn't help but cringe at the nervous feeling that churned in the pit of his stomach as he turned back towards the counter. He wouldn't know if he didn't say something, and he didn't know if he could handle sitting idly by as she started dating again, like she inevitably would, if he didn't at least tell her how he felt.

But, what if he told her and she _…_ his thoughts trailed off once again as he took a sip of coffee, and his wavering resolve strengthened as he couldn't help but taste her strawberry lip gloss that she'd unknowingly left on the rim of his coffee cup.

oOo

As far as carnivals went, this one wasn't any different than the other carnivals that Usagi had dragged him to. The crowd was thick and a little overwhelming. The thrilled screams of roller coaster riders intermingled loudly with the various chords of music blaring from speakers strategically placed in a variety of different locations. Carnival attendants dressed in striped vests suavely beckoned customers to their games with the promise of cheap, but strangely alluring plushies, or goldfish tied in little plastic bags filled with water.

It was a deafening whirlwind of excited energy that made him feel nauseated. Usako, though, was in her element, and he tried to forget the anxiety-driven into him by his surroundings and focus solely on her flushed cheeks, her wide, awe-filled eyes, and the way her fingers were suddenly interlaced with his as she pulled him through the crowd.

Usagi had been correct in her statement that he did not have the greatest track record with carnivals, and though he'd been dreading coming here, after an hour or so, he did have to admit that he was actually enjoying himself.

Just like always, she knew how to make him forget how uncomfortable he felt in large, loud crowds, as she pulled him towards her favorite rides. She was a silken blonde tornado of light, clumsily twirling from one place to the next with the soft chime of an enticing giggle, a beckoning light glinting in the pools of sapphire blue eyes, and the alluring curl of a sugar-coated smile. The sugars on her lips came from a candy-apple that they'd stopped to buy from a vendor and he'd watched her devour it with the same gusto she afforded everything she loved in life.

Soon, he was laughing with her, and it was like it had always been between them; natural, comfortable, and though he still felt the urge to pull her into his arms and taste the sugared candy still coated on her lips, it would always be _more_ than that with her. He couldn't imagine that he would fit with anyone else as perfectly as he fit with Usagi.

"Oh! Mamo-chan!" Usagi exclaimed breathless with excitement, and he collided into her back as she suddenly halted in her tracks. Undeterred, she whirled around to face him. "Look! A house of mirrors, and there's no line up for that one!"

He glanced up to where she'd animatedly gestured, and he could see why there wasn't a lineup. It was still relatively early, the sun just setting beyond the horizon, so there were still several families out with their children. The makeshift house of mirrors, with its darkened exterior, the chords of strangely eerie music coming from inside, and the large block-lettered sign sporting a picture of a ghoulish demon-like creature did not exactly emanate a kid-friendly vibe.

He raised an eyebrow in surprise, the corners of his lips quirking into a soft, indulgent smile. "Usako, I'm not really sure we should go in there," he murmured with a small shake of his head. "Looks a bit creepy, doesn't it?" he ventured tentatively.

Usagi was not a fan of anything that was remotely frightening. She avoided anything rooted in the horror genre, and he knew that she hated the dark. It frightened her enough that he knew she still kept her bedside lamp on when she was at home, and he purposefully kept the hallway light on when she slept over. Though, if you asked her, she would adamantly deny it.

Her brow furrowed adorably, and with a dismissive wave of her hand, her chin tilted upwards proudly, she shook her head. "Please? It looks like fun!" She scoffed and leaned over to grasp his hand and tug him towards the house.

He sighed and rolled his eyes in amusement as he allowed her to pull him through a small crowd of congregating girls taking selfies to the rickety wooden steps that led to the open entrance into the darkened interior of the house.

Usagi promptly pulled out two, slightly crumpled, bright orange carnival ride admittance tickets from her pocket and handed them to a tawny-haired, bored attendant that accepted the pieces of paper without bothering to look up from his phone.

He knew the exact instant that Usagi regretted her decision to step into the house. It was as the doors slammed behind them, they were bathed in complete darkness, and he heard the audible hitch in her breath and felt her tense beside him.

He chuckled softly, "Usako," he murmured to the darkened outline of her lithe form that he could barely see. "We can just turn around. Honestly, let's go on the Ferris wheel instead," he comforted and clasped her hand with the intention of pulling her back through the front door.

He was surprised when she yanked her hand out of his and stepped away from him. "I'm not afraid, Mamo-chan!" she exclaimed, "Come on!"

He wasn't sure why she was so determined to wade through the darkened interior of this, quite frankly, poorly crafted house as he followed her darkened outline towards a set of open doorways that led them into a twisting maze of mirrors down a very dimly lit hallway.

It was a little less eerie the further along that they went, though he noted that the strange halloweenish sound effects that they had playing were definitely in poor taste. Usagi skipped along ahead, and he couldn't help but smile as she giggled and paused in front of each mirror to make funny faces at the distorted figures in their blurred reflections.

He was watching her with amusement, a smirk on his face, when she twirled towards him, breathless with excitement, and opened her mouth to say something when the ghoulish monster sound effects that were echoing around them suddenly switched to a new track. Which happened to be the sound effects of a thunderstorm.

It didn't matter that the roaring sound of thunder that rippled through the house was fake; Usagi's eyes widened, and the blood drained from her face. Her lips parted, and she emitted a soundless scream as she clamped her hands over her ears and slumped forward in paralyzed terror.

He cursed angrily, furious with the atrocious choice in background music, and his heart began to race as he sprang into action. He quickly took the two steps to close the gap between them and automatically pulled her into his arms. Her body was as stiff as a board, though he could feel her trembling and hear her hyperventilating, as he protectively wrapped one arm around her waist, and pressed her head against his chest with the other.

He stroked her hair, murmuring nonsensical soothing words, as they waited for the thunder sound effects to stop. He knew that it wouldn't be helpful to tell her that the sounds weren't real, or that it wasn't _really_ storming outside. She knew that already. So he merely held her, just like he'd always done, and waited.

Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, and he smoothed away the soft blonde curls by her temple. "It's almost over, Usa," he comforted, his words whispered soothingly, as his arm tightened firmly around the slender curve of her waist.

In no time, her breathing evened, and he felt the tension leave her body as she melted against him. His only intent in holding her like this was to help alleviate the intensity of her terror. He'd held her like this countless times over the years, and in these moments, any thoughts, other than soothing her, were completely wiped from his mind.

This time though, when her trembling subsided, and she tilted her head upwards to peer into his face, something felt _different_.

Her lashes were wet with the remnants of terrified tears, but her eyes were wide and filled with something else. A longing that made his breath hitch in his throat, and made him _acutely_ aware of the intimate way that he was currently holding her.

He was sure that her breathing had suddenly quickened by the rapid rise and fall of her chest nestled against his, and, though he wasn't one hundred percent certain, he thought that _maybe_ she'd purposefully propelled herself onto the tips of her toes to get closer to him so that her lips were barely inches away from his.

He swore he could hear the sound of his racing heart roaring with anticipation in his ears as he fixed his gaze onto her lips. He wanted so badly to kiss her, to taste her strawberry lip gloss again, but this time from her lips instead, but _was_ she really leaning into him, though? _Did he imagine that?_

It seemed like his body had a mind of its own as he lowered his head just a little bit closer. Her breath was warm as it intermingled with his and fanned across his face. He would have given in, forgotten all of his reservations, and _finally,_ after all of these years of longing, bent down tokiss her, if he hadn't taken a moment to note the tears that were still glistening in her eyes as she blinked up at him. Big, saucer-wide eyes filled with a vulnerability she was still recovering from because of her terror-filled phobia that had been triggered by the sound thunder.

His heart sank because he knew that he couldn't kiss her now. Not like this. He couldn't take advantage of the fact that she'd turned to him in a moment of terror, just like he hadn't been able to kiss her after that terrible date when she'd fallen broken-heartedly into his arms.

He cleared his throat and took a small step back to put a little distance in between them, though she remained firmly within the circle of his arms.

Her expression was stricken, filled with confusion, as she innocently blinked up at him.

He smiled reassuringly. "Are you all right, Usako?" He whispered and internally cringed at the painfully hoarse tone of his voice. Her cheeks reddened with a warm, enticing blush as she mutely nodded, and quickly averted her gaze in embarrassment.

"Thank you, Mamo-chan," she whispered softly. "You always make me feel safe," she continued, and the sadness melted away from her expression as she offered him a tentative smile.

He opened his mouth to respond, but he was interrupted by the shrill cry of excitement from a girl that had pushed her way into the hallway amidst a group of giggling teenagers that were laughing at their own distorted reflections among the row of mirrors. Whatever had been surging with muted intensity in between them faded away with the interruption.

Usagi twirled out of his arms, a warm look etched into her eyes as she quirked her lips into a smile and grasped his hand in hers. "Come on, Mamo-chan," she said sweetly, her tone soft but still shaky and edged with emotion.

He let her pull him through the crowd of girls, that only spared them brief, curious, looks, and back through the house the way they'd come. When they stepped back outside, the sun had completely set, and the whole carnival was bathed in the glow of the carnivals flashing, multicolored lights and blinding white floodlights. They paused for a moment, outside of the house of mirrors, and his mind was racing with the implications and possibilities from what had just transpired between them.

Usagi wrapped slender fingers around his wrist, and his breath hitched as he fixed his gaze onto her. _Something was different._ He could feel it, and he could see it etched into the soft contours of her face and the bright, inquisitive glint shining from her eyes.

She didn't say anything for a moment, and he knew that he should have said something to break the strange, electrically charged, silence that had settled in between them. He couldn't possibly manage though, because his heart was pounding, the words tangled up in his mouth because all he could feel right now was a nervous _excitement._

It was Usagi who finally spoke, her cheeks flushed, her head tilted to the side, shadows dancing across her face as the lights from the tilt 'o whirl ride behind her twisted and twirled in the darkness. "Can… can we go on the roller coaster now, Mamo-chan?" she asked softly, visibly swallowing, a tentative and nervous smile curled onto her lips.

Wordlessly, he nodded, and her smile widened, as she turned away and they silently began to make their way towards the next ride.

She didn't say another word which, under normal circumstances, would have made him nervous. Except that when he risked a sideways glance to surreptitiously study her profile as they walked, he noted the expression on her face, and he was sure that expression was the very same one he always wore when looking at her.

The hope that unfurled in his chest was almost unbearable, and it cemented the decision he'd been subconsciously toying with all day.

He was going to tell her how he felt about her, and he was going to tell her tonight.

oOo

This felt exactly like the moment when he'd finally admitted to himself that he had somehow fallen in love with his best friend. Internally, it felt like he'd been torn in half as he'd struggled with what he was going to do about it. Now, after all of these years, he'd finally built up the courage to face her and tell her how he felt, but, unsurprisingly, his mouth and the words that kept getting tangled up on his tongue were not cooperating with him.

Luckily, the charged tension after the house of mirrors had melted away, and Usagi was back to being her chattering, bubbly self as they stood in the lineup for some roller coaster called the twisted twizzler. That suited him just fine because the more that she talked and bounced around excitedly on the balls of her feet, the less likely it would be that she would notice how quiet he'd suddenly become.

This was a good idea, right? Surely the several times that he'd caught her staring at him today, with a longing look that lingered, or the multiple times he'd somehow found her lips just inches from his, meant that there was something there for her too, right? Was he losing it? Was all of this just a hopeful product of his imagination?

"Do you think this ride is super fast, Mamo-chan?" she questioned softly. Then propelled herself onto the tips of her toes and craned her neck to peer over the heads of the people in front of them so that she could catch a glimpse of the coaster that he could hear whirring loudly on the tracks in front of a large, makeshift tunnel.

He barely heard her question because he was focused on untangling the web of words of the confession that he was dangerously close to suppressing out of sheer nervousness once

again.

She turned towards him, eyebrows raised, and her expression tinged with confusion because he still hadn't responded to the question she'd just asked him. "Mamo-chan?" she tried again, as the silken, golden streamer of her pigtail tumbled over the slope of her delicate shoulder with the inquisitive tilt of her head. _Damn_. It didn't help that her beauty took his breath away.

He raked a hand through his hair, exhaled a shaky breath and made a decision. _Now_. He had to say something now, or he never would. "Usako, I have to tell you something," he began, pleased that his voice didn't sound nearly as nervous as he felt.

Her eyes widened and filled with concern. "What is it, Mamo-chan?" She whispered softly, and he heard the catch in her breath, too.

It wasn't the perfect location, and he was dimly aware that they were standing in the middle of a lineup of a crowded carnival, but he didn't want to wait anymore. He inhaled, the words perched on the tip of his tongue, when they were promptly, and quite annoyingly, interrupted.

"Usagi-chan! Mamoru-san! I thought we might see you tonight!"

Usagi turned away from him, and they both looked up in one simultaneous motion, though Usagi wore a pleasantly surprised expression whereas he found it difficult to suppress the annoyed look on his face. The enthusiastic greeting had come from Makoto who was approaching them with a warm smile on her face. He stifled a groan when he noted that she was accompanied by Minako and a group of her friends.

His mild annoyance only darkened into sour irritation though, when he noted that within the group of friends stood the last person he wanted to see. Seiya. He had hoped that the long-haired, self-proclaimed music artist would not reappear in his life again. That was wishful thinking, apparently, and he _was_ pleased to note that the expression on his face appeared sheepish and nervous, rather than self-righteous with the smug smile he'd sported the last time they'd met.

The second group, much to Mamoru's dismay, joined them in the line, and Minako, with a toss of blonde hair that narrowly missed whipping him in the face, wedged herself in between him and Usagi, as she sidled up beside her and promptly hooked her arm through hers.

"Mina-chan! Mako-chan!" Usagi exclaimed brightly, her tone laced with genuine pleasure to see her friends. "Of course we're here," she giggled, and Mamoru noticed that she shot Seiya a wary glance.

Seiya cleared his throat uncomfortably. "It's nice to see you again, Usagi-san, Mamoru-san." he murmured politely.

Mamoru couldn't help but feel relieved that the tension between Usagi and Seiya was so painfully palpable. Though he instantly felt guilty about that the moment he saw the hurt expression that momentarily crossed over Usagi's face.

Her cheeks reddened, and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other and, with a proud tilt of her chin, she averted her gaze. "Kou-san," she replied with a curt nod.

An uneasy silence followed their strained greeting, and it was only broken by a forced giggle from Minako. "Well, this is awkward! Jeez, guys, you can slice through the tension with a fork," she said airily with another chiming laugh that effectively lightened the mood.

Usagi snorted with amusement, "Or a spoon?" she replied jokingly with an amused tilt of her head.

Makoto, in turn, chuckled as well. "No!" she interjected excitedly, " _A spork!"_

Both girls began to choke with laughter, and Minako scoffed, as she haughtily tilted her head up and flicked her hair off of her shoulder with an imperious twist of her wrist. There was an impish gleam in her eye that gave her away, though.

Luckily, Seiya melted into his group of friends as they moved ahead of them in the lineup, and he was relieved as the other boy disappeared from his line of sight as Usagi become lost in conversation with Makoto.

He would have been content to quietly trail behind them, but Minako, _annoying, nosy Minako,_ was not in the mood to let things be.

The blonde fashionista gracefully twisted around, her back turned towards Usagi and Makoto, to face him. "What's the matter, Chiba? You're looking a little _tense,_ " she practically purred with a suggestive wiggle of perfectly manicured, blonde eyebrows.

He rolled his eyes, jaw clenched tightly shut, as he attempted to ignore her.

She giggled. "You know it's rude not to respond when someone is speaking to you!" She exclaimed lightheartedly. "What's wrong, anyway? Bunny rabbit got your tongue?" She said, her tone annoyingly suggestive

His brows furrowed into a scowl. "I think you mean to say cat, Aino," he forced through gritted teeth.

She snickered, her gaze flicking casually over her shoulder slowly and deliberately towards Usagi, before falling back onto him with a smirk. "Do I, though?" She asked, her tone soft and cryptic as she leaned forward.

His eyes narrowed, and he forcibly bit back a scathing retort, just as the line moved up again, and it was Minako's friends turn to go on the coaster.

The blonde twisted back around with an excited flurry and joined a stiffened-shouldered Seiya and her friends as a stern looking attendant opened a steel entrance gate and held his hand out for tickets.

Their group slipped through the gate, and the attendant stopped when they reached Makoto, Minako, and Usagi.

"There's only room for two more," the attendant stated, his tone serious, an expectant look on his face.

Minako squealed, hooked her arm into Usagi's and pulled her through the gate. Usagi glanced at him over her shoulder as the red-bowed blonde pulled her forward, and offered him an apologetic smile.

He smiled back reassuringly, though his smile melted into a frown as the attendant intercepted the pair of blondes before they could get into the dragon-shaped cart.

"Sorry, this cart is out of order. I have to split you guys up," he ordered and gestured towards the last two empty seats. One of them was beside a boy that was not associated with their group, and the other one was, unfortunately, beside Seiya.

He couldn't help the nervous way his fingers flexed and curled tightly around the top of the steel gate, his knuckles turning white with the pressure, and his jaw was clenched shut so tightly, he thought it might snap.

 _Please, Minako._ He inwardly pleaded and hoped that the annoying blonde would do the _right_ thing for once and sit with Seiya. He was _her_ friend after all.

He knew that wasn't going to happen when the silver-haired boy in the other cart gave Minako a suggestive wink. There was no way Minako was going to pass down a chance to sit with him, and he inwardly cursed as, sure enough, the blonde practically preened under his gaze and, with a practiced swish of her hips, _abandoned_ Usagi to slip into the seat beside him.

Usagi's smile was tight, the contours of her face hardened as she peered at the empty seat beside Seiya with hesitation. For a moment he thought she might turn around and come back, but he watched as she sighed and stiffly sat beside the long-haired jerk instead.

Her gaze met his, and she must have seen the concern written there because she shrugged with resignation and offered _him_ a reassuring smile.

The only comfort that he could pull from this was the fact that Seiya looked just as uncomfortable as she did, as they both purposefully leaned as far away from each other as possible to avoid touching.

He felt the urge to kick the stupid steel gate as the roller coaster moved forward and disappeared into the darkened tunnel with a loud screech and the nearly deafening sounds of mechanical clicking.

Well, this wasn't the _worst_ thing to have happened to him at the carnival, but he couldn't help the nervous twinge that was unfurling in his chest when he thought about Usagi, who he'd almost just confessed that he was in love with, pressed up beside Seiya that he knew damn well still wanted to date her. _He had too._ Usagi was pure perfection. How he could have rejected _her_ was beyond him. It was inexplicable, and that thought alone made him want to growl out loud in frustration.

He didn't realize that his scowling gaze was still locked onto the place that the coaster had disappeared, or that both of his hands were clenched tightly around the steel railing of the gate now until he felt the slightest touch on the top of his hand.

He turned his head to the side, his brow furrowed in confusion, as he peered down into wide, sympathetic emerald green eyes.

"Hey, Mamoru-san. You don't have to worry. The coaster is only like 6 minutes tops. They'll be back soon," Makoto consoled quietly, her tone soft and comforting.

He exhaled deeply, a breath he hadn't realized that he'd been holding, and nodded at the brunette. "I know," he murmured under his breath, before the corners of his mouth quirked up into a small, grateful smile. "Thank you," he added, almost as an apologetic afterthought.

Makoto shrugged nonchalantly in response as she leaned forward over the gate, and a comfortable silence settled between them.

He'd always felt a bit separated from Usagi's friends. It was mostly his fault as Usagi had _so_ many friends, and he had never been able to find a way to comfortably interact with them. He knew that her friends probably didn't understand why Usagi spent so much time with him, they were complete opposites after all, but they mostly tolerated his presence.

Which was why he was surprised that the bright-eyed brunette was offering him comfort as if she knew how he felt.

He sighed miserably as he turned back to stare at the tracks with anticipation. _Of course, she knew._ It would seem like they all knew because he was so patently obvious about it.

The lineup was starting to build, and the group of people behind them were getting restless when he noted, as he furtively glanced down at his wristwatch, that more than ten minutes had passed.

He raked a hand through his hair and crossed his arms with an impatient huff when the attendants stern, slightly shaky voice resonated above the restless chatter of the people waiting.

"Hey! Sorry folks, but this ride is currently out or order! Please come back later!"

There was a cacophony of irate and dismayed boos as the waiting patrons began to disperse and meander over to the other rides.

He shared a panicked look with Makoto as he twisted around and leaned over the gated barrier to wave over the black-haired, acne-faced, attendant.

"Hey!" He spat as the boy slowly approached. "What about the people already on the coaster?" He demanded harshly and nearly throttled the boy when he responded with a shrug.

"Coaster is stuck on the track. They're working on it," he replied and turned to go once again.

Mamoru's heart was hammering angrily against his rib cage, and he let loose a harshly whispered expletive as he leaned over the steel barrier and firmly clasped the attendant's arm.

"My friend is on that coaster," he snapped, but the attendant yanked his arm away and scowled.

"Your friend is fine. They're just stuck, man," he defended, brow furrowed and hands raised in surrender. "They're working on it," he finished lamely and took a tentative step backward.

Mamoru wanted to leap over the gate and throttle him. Instead, he gritted his teeth and curtly shook his head. "Look, isn't there- "

Makoto interrupted him. "Mamoru-san, I'm sure that everyone is fine," she reassured calmly. "Look, why don't we go wait by the exit? There was a cotton candy vendor right there. You can buy some for when Usagi-chan gets off the roller coaster," Makoto reasoned.

Though he understood her logic, he couldn't help but feel panicked, and it had less to do with concerns for her safety than he'd like to admit. Makoto was right though, and so, despite his trepidation, he nodded and wordlessly followed the brunette to where the others would exit.

He liked to think that he was a patient person, but he couldn't help but pace back-and-forth as he waited with bated breath for Usagi to exit the ride that had broken down.

Makoto had given up trying to comfort him as she'd silently perched herself onto the edge of a low stone bearing wall, legs crossed, and eyes glinting with amusement as she plucked at the fluffy threads of the cotton candy that she'd purchased.

He was nearing the breaking point, drowning in his panicked-ridden thoughts as they reached the one hour mark. Finally, he recognized some of Minako's friends as they began to file down the sloped rickety wooden ramp as they exited the darkened tunnel of the roller coaster ride.

He felt the tension release from his shoulders and exhaled deeply with relief when Usagi's golden streamers of hair twisted in the breeze as she exited the tunnel behind the others and stepped into view. The relief was short-lived, though, and it was like the wind had been knocked out of him with the painful realization that she was walking next to Seiya.

Gone was the tension between them, and the stiff, uncomfortable posture she'd held when she'd hesitantly sat down beside Seiya. Their arms were practically touching, as her bright blue sapphire eyes peered up at him. In place of the strained, hurt expression he'd counted on, that had been carved onto the delicate features of her face, was the soft, _smiling_ expression that he knew _very_ well.

Admittedly, he was not only confused by her shift in moods towards the long-haired boy that was annoyingly staring down at her like she was some kind of moon goddess. He also wondered what could have possibly happened in the hour that she'd been stuck with him to make her forget how he'd dared to hurt her.

His heart stopped when she finally caught sight of him. Her eyes brightened, and her face lit up with one of her dazzling, heart-breaking smiles.

"Mamo-chan! Oh gosh," she chimed excitedly as she skipped the final three steps and closed the gap in between them. "Can you believe how crazy it is that we got stuck like that?" She questioned, face tilted upwards, a pink blush tinged across the smooth skin of her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. "At least you didn't get stuck this time though, right Mamo-chan?" She giggled and leaned in towards him.

He felt the tension uncoil slightly from the taut muscles of his neck as his lips involuntary quirked into a small half-smile. He opened his mouth with the intention of responding when Seiya interrupted him.

"Hey, Usagi-chan, are you coming?"

It was one of the most painful things that he'd ever heard, but not nearly as painful as the smile that curled onto her lips as she peered back at him over her shoulder. "Just a minute!" She exclaimed.

His stomach churned with bitter disappointment, and all of the hope and anticipation that he'd been building up in his head and his heart all day came crashing down with a brutal vengeance. He'd imagined it. All of it. Usagi would never see him as anything but her best friend, and the realization, after coming so close to confessing, tore him up into pieces.

He'd already taken a step back when she turned back towards him. "Hey! So, Seiya-san invited us to go see his band play, so I told him I would ask you first but-"

He could hardly stand to hear another word. "Yeah, I think I'll pass, Usa," he spat, and inwardly cringed at the painful venom laced into his words. "I'm not really interested in being a third wheel on an impromptu date," he scoffed, and he couldn't help the accusation in his tone.

It was unfair, and damn, it wasn't her fault, but it hurt. It hurt really bad, and he couldn't help it.

Her eyes widened in horrified confusion, and she vehemently shook her head. "What? Mamo-chan, don't be ridiculous. It's not like that. Actually, it's really funny. I want to talk to you about-"

He didn't trust himself not to say something irreparable. So he shook his head and interjected once again. "Look, Usako," he began, and he was proud at the steady way he held his tone. "Just go. I want to go home, anyways. I'm not feeling well," he said, and he knew the excuse was lame, just barely believable, but he couldn't manage a more complex lie at the moment.

He turned to leave, to get out of this painful situation so that he could go back to his apartment and mourn what had been a second of hope when she grasped his wrist to stop him. "Mamo-chan, what's wrong?" She demanded, her tone tinged with worry. "I'll come with you if you're not feeling well. I can make you soup or something," she offered, eyes wide and imploring.

He gently extracted his arm out of hers, because he refused to misread their friendship again. "No," he snapped, and it was a bit harsher than he intended. "I want to be alone," he demanded, though his hardened demeanor softened at the stricken expression on her face. "Have fun, Usako," he said softly and forcibly offered her what he hoped was a reassuring smile before he turned around, strode past a Makoto who was sporting a horrified expression on her face, and through the crowd of people towards the park entrance.

It took every ounce of strength that he possessed not to pause and look back at her.

oOo

He didn't think that the walk home could get any more bleak, as he forcibly put one foot in front of the other. Usagi's feelings for him wasn't the only thing that he'd been wrong about, though, and he couldn't help but let loose a bark of disbelieving laughter as the first droplets of water hit his face, and the sky opened up, and it began to rain in earnest.

He was in a veritably miserable mood when he finally pushed his apartment door open, kicked off his shoes in the genkan before trudging into the living room and falling onto the couch with a soft sigh of resigned exhaustion and defeat.

This whole thing was his fault. He'd built something up in his head that wasn't there, and although it would take him a couple of days, he was determined to let this awful feeling of bitter disappointment fade so that they could go back to the way things had been before. Honestly, he would rather have Usagi in his life as his friend than not have her in his life at all. Which was the whole reason he hadn't confessed his love for her in the first place.

He steeled his determination, miserably peeled himself off of the couch and, with shoulders slumped in defeat, he made his way to the bathroom to take a hot shower.

It was only later as he settled himself back onto the couch, comfortably dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt, with his books strewn out in front of him on the coffee table, that he allowed his mind to wander back to Usagi. Was she at band practice with Seiya, right now?

He exhaled despondently, raked his hand across his face with a pitiful groan of frustration as he leaned back, and settled his head onto the top of the couch headrest. He narrowed his eyes, and sadly fixed his gaze onto the ceiling. It looked like his track record with carnivals was never going to change, though this one was admittedly his worst one yet.

The rain began to pick up in intensity outside, and the droplets smashed against the window pane with a pitter-pattering thud that was consistently starting to increase in volume, so be almost missed the sound of the knock on his door.

Before he had time to get up and answer it, he heard the distinct sound of a key being inserted into the lock, as it twisted and clicked open. The door flew open and scraped loudly across the linoleum of the genkan floor, to reveal a shivering Usagi who burst over the threshold.

The door automatically shut behind her with a resounding thud, and she swiveled around to face him. She was definitely a sight for sore eyes, her hair and clothes damp from the rain, her arms crossed over her midsection as she attempted to rub some warmth into her arms, and her lips tinged a blue as she trembled from the cold.

He instinctively wanted to envelop her in his arms, but he fought the urge because he suddenly couldn't control the anger that surged through him at the sight of her.

Logically, he knew this wasn't her fault. The anger was only the resulting remnants of the crushing disappointment he was still trying to get over, but still. He was angry because he wanted to pull her into his arms, kiss her and hold her tightly against him, but he also wanted her to leave him alone to wallow for a while. Which was damn confusing.

As it stood, she slipped out of her soggy shoes and gingerly stepped into the living room. Her smile was confused and tentative as her gaze swept over his figure splayed out on the couch.

"Mamo-chan," she murmured. "Are you feeling better? I was worried about you," she said softly, and he did have to admit that her tone was laced with a concern that he instantly felt guilty about.

His lips were pressed into a harsh, grim line, as he cleared his throat and regained control of his erratic emotions. "I'm fine, Usa," he involuntarily snapped and inwardly cursed the harsh edge of his voice as her eyes went round, filled with confusion and hurt that he had not intended. "Did you have fun with Seiya?" He'd meant to inject an impassive, soft tone into the question, but he was apparently not capable of disguising anything at the moment, because she inhaled sharply with a stricken expression.

"Mamo-chan, I don't understand," she whispered softly. "Are you mad at me?"

Of course, he was mad, but it wasn't with her. Not really. He was more angry with himself. For allowing his feelings for her to almost ruin the most important thing in his life; their friendship. He was mad because he wasn't sure if things would ever be easy between them again. How was he ever going to be able to handle watching her be with someone else with a fake, _best-friend_ , smile plastered onto his face?

And it was going to happen. Even if it wasn't Seiya. One day he would have to watch another guy kiss her, and be with her in all of the ways that he wanted to, but couldn't, because she would never look at him in that way.

He should have asked her if she would leave, come up with some kind of plausible excuse, but instead, he let the simmering pain boil over when he spoke.

"Yeah, Usa. I'm mad," he snapped furiously, and even though he hated the confused pain that contorted onto her delicate facial features, he couldn't help himself. "Not only did you drag me to a damn carnival, that I didn't want to go to by the way, but then you decide to take off with the stupid jerk that broke your heart?" He seethed, as he pulled himself off of the couch into a standing position.

Her face paled, and her eyes widened as she shook her head and lifted her palms in supplication. "Mamo-chan, please. It's _not_ like that!" She pleaded, "That whole thing with Seiya was actually a big misunderstanding," she whispered, effectively twisting the knife plunged into his heart.

He snorted loudly. "So making you feel like you were worthless and driving you into inconsolable tears was a _misunderstanding?"_ He sneered, "I seriously doubt that Usako," he scoffed.

He was being an insufferable jerk. He knew he was. He could see it written plainly in the beautiful contours of her face. He was hurting her with his words, but he was so angry, he couldn't seem to manage any other reaction.

She visibly winced and wrapped her arms more tightly around herself. "Mamo-chan," she breathed, and the hitch in her breath managed to catch him off guard. "Seiya said that the only reason he didn't want to see me again was that he was certain… well, he seemed to think that…" she trailed off, and nervously chewed her bottom lip as a pink blush colored her pale cheeks.

His anger dissolved at the sight of her like that, and he wished more than anything, that things were easy between them again. "What did he think, Usako?" He asked quietly because he was truly curious to _know_ what excuse he'd come up with.

She seemed to calm, her eyes wide and pleading as she lifted her face to peer at him. "He said that he was sure that you had feelings for me, and he didn't want to get in the way," she said, and he froze at her unexpected words. "That's crazy, though… isn't it Mamo-chan?" She asked, and it felt like the sound had been sucked from the room.

He was frozen under the wide, blue stare of her pleading prodding gaze that was waiting for him to respond. He could admit it now. Seiya, of all people, had given him an opening.

His heart raced, and his stomach churned as he faced her questioning eyes. If he told her the truth, he would never be able to salvage their friendship, and he loved her. He loved her so much that the thought of losing her forever knocked the wind out of him.

He swallowed around the lump of emotion in his throat, and slowly shook his head. "Usako," he whispered raspily. "That's crazy. You're - you're my best friend," he stammered, his tone hoarse and suitably disbelieving.

Her face fell, and her eyes welled with tears as she quickly turned away. "I'm sorry that I made you mad," she whispered and flew back into the genkan. "I didn't mean to make you do something you didn't want to do," the broken tone in her voice confused him and pulled at his heartstrings in equal parts.

Her hand was on the door handle when the storm outside escalated and the sky outside rumbled with thunder. He heard her sharp intake of breath and watched her freeze in paralyzed terror.

In two long strides, he was standing behind her. "Usako, it's storming outside," his voice shook quietly with emotion. He placed a tentative hand on her shoulder, and her muscles were stiff and taut beneath his fingers.

She exhaled a shaky breath, "I'm a big girl, I can handle it alone," she said, but it was uttered with an unconvincing whimper that broke his heart.

Another bang of thunder resonated around them, and she cried out and crumpled forward against the door.

He didn't hesitate this time, as he gripped her waist, twisted her around and crushed her against his chest. She melted into him, whimpering miserably into his shirt. "Usako, don't be ridiculous," he whispered. "I want you to stay here." And god, it was true. Despite everything, he wanted her to stay with him.

Wordlessly, she nodded in agreement, and he gently coaxed her away from the door where she was rooted in place, and carefully guided her through the hall to his bedroom.

He barely slept at all, as he held her trembling form throughout the night, just like he had for every storm since the little golden-curled four-year-old had plucked him from a bleak existence in the hospital so long ago. It would be easier if he really _did_ believe that she was just his best friend. Then he could guarantee that she would stay in his life like this forever. He realized with a sinking feeling, though, that somewhere along the line, he was going to have to tell her how he felt and risk losing her forever, or, to keep her in his life, he was going to have to let her go.

oOo

The raw intensity of disappointment had dulled and faded into the emotionally repressed part of his mind when he woke up the next morning. He felt like he was in suitable control of his raging emotions as, bleary-eyed, he twisted onto his side and blinked into the brightness of his bedroom. He was alone in his bed, which provided him the ability to quickly gather his thoughts and strengthen his resolve to fix things between him and Usagi. So, that it could be like it was before she'd gone on that first date. Before he'd let things get weird between them.

He sighed as he, with great difficulty, pulled himself into a sitting position on his bed. He stretched an uncomfortable kink out of his neck as he stood, and padded out of the bedroom and into the living room. He was relieved to find that Usagi hadn't left, but was sitting on the sofa, her legs curled up beneath her, a throw blanket draped across her lap as she peered down at the screen of her phone.

Her shirt, the same one she'd worn the day before was wrinkled, her hair had fallen out of her perfectly crafted buns, and endless locks of hair fell loosely across her shoulders, and cascaded down the length of her body to fan along the sofa cushions. She was so beautiful, it was almost painful to look at her.

She must have heard him approach because she tilted her face upwards, and her eyes met his.

The smile that curled onto her lips was shaky and tentative, and it instantly elicited a flash of guilt that coursed through him.

He sighed and cleared his throat. "Hey, Usako," he began softly, as he shifted nervously and raked a hand through his hair. "Look, Usa, I'm really sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean-"

Usagi promptly interrupted him. "Mamo-chan, it's okay," she replied with a soft, understanding lilt in her voice. "You don't need to apologize. I know you were mad, but you made it very clear that we'll always be friends last night," she said with a small, almost sad half-smile. "Would it be okay if we just forgot about yesterday?" She asked tentatively, before placing one hand over her heart and lifting the other one into the air. "I solemnly vow to never drag you to a dastardly, cursed carnival of doom again!" She vowed with a mock-serious expression on her face and a muted twinkle of amusement in her eyes.

He exhaled slowly, the corners of his lips curling into a reciprocating smile. This was what he wanted, too. "Of course, Usako," he replied with relief.

She smiled brightly and nodded in response. "Hey, I need to go home and change. Do you want to come with? See mom and dad? We can stop at Mont Thabor bakery for coffee on the way?" She asked hopefully, leaning forward with the dazzling brightness of her energy and smile.

He nearly nodded, when he suddenly remembered that his appointment with Tokyo University was this morning. He inhaled sharply, panic coursing through him, as he hurriedly lifted his wrist to check the time on his watch.

He exhaled with relief that it was still only 630am, and he still had plenty of time to make his appointment.

"I'm sorry, Usako," he apologized. "I can't go this morning. Do you want to meet up at the arcade this afternoon?" He questioned, then frowned as he watched the pink tinge across her cheeks as she quickly averted her gaze.

She cleared her throat, her slender fingers fiddling nervously with the blanket on her lap. "I can't, Mamo-chan. I texted Seiya this morning, and we have plans this afternoon," she murmured, furtively risking a glance back at him from beneath long black lashes.

The statement was painful, like another blow that quickly deflated him. Though it wasn't as painful as yesterday, it was still another crushing disappointment.

She grimaced at the look that must have crossed his face. "Are you mad, Mamo-chan?" She questioned, " I mean. I'm not sure why you hate Seiya. I thought… well, I just don't want you to be mad," She faltered and finished her statement with a sorrow-filled look and misery laced into her words.

He smiled sadly. "I'm not mad, Usako," he responded honestly. He wasn't mad, he was heartbroken because he had a sinking feeling that he knew what he had to do now. First, he needed to be sure. "Are you planning on dating him again?" He asked, swallowing around the lump of misery and pain lodged in his throat.

She nodded slowly, her eyes fixed firmly onto his, as she gauged his reaction. "I think so. I don't know what to do, Mamo-chan," she pleaded, her voice shaking with emotion. "I just…" She trailed off, and her lower lip quivered, and her eyes welled with tears. "Promise me that you'll at least be my friend forever Mamo-chan?" She pleaded brokenly, wrapping her arms around her midsection and slumping forward miserably.

He hated to see her like this, and he hated that she thought, for even a second, that he wouldn't be her friend because of his own stupid, uncontrollable feelings for her.

He forced a reassuring smile on his face and moved to sit down on the couch beside her. Wordlessly, he held out his arm, and she smiled through her tears as she scrambled to her knees and shuffled her body to settle down beside him.

He wrapped his arm around her waist as she nestled her head on his shoulder. "Usako, I promise you that you will always be my best friend. No matter what," he vowed quietly, his lips pressed against the silken hair at the crown of her head.

There was only one way that he could keep that promise without hurting her. It was time to let her go.

"Hey, let me walk you home. We can get some lemon tarts, the super sweet ones that you like, from Mont Thabor on the way," he offered, as he tried desperately to mask the pain ripping through him.

She leaned back and tilted her chin to stare up at him with a frown. "I thought you couldn't because you had plans this morning?" She inquired with confused curiosity.

He shrugged and plastered a smile onto his face. "No, I can. It doesn't really matter now, anyway," he responded vaguely.

It didn't matter, because he knew, without a doubt, that he would no longer be going to Tokyo University.

oOo


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N:** GUYS! This is IT! I did it! I finished it! I just want to say, THANK YOU! To every single one of you, that read, reviewed, favorited, and encouraged me! You guys! This was SO much fun to write! LIKE, incredibly so!

Of course, I could NOT have done this without my besties; **Ninjette Twitch and Revy676. _I LOVE you guys!_** Thanks for keeping me afloat in this crazy fanfiction world.

Well. It was a slow burn, and I hope that this ending quenches those heated flames.

Please Read, and if you like it, Review!

 **Chapter 10**

The muscles in her cheeks were sore. Her jowls thrumming, her ears popping, and still, she pursed her lips over the latex openings of the crimson red balloons that she was painstakingly blowing up.

In retrospect, she probably should have opted for renting that helium machine thing from the party store, but, it was almost midnight. The surprise party was early tomorrow morning, and it was _way_ too late to go back to the store now.

"Whoa, where are you even going to hang all of these?"

She lifted her gaze, red-faced from the effort she was using to exhale deeply, to look up at Motoki over the top of the red plastic orb. Her sandy-haired friend had graciously asked his parents, who were the owners of the Crowne arcade if they could use the establishment for a surprise party. Luckily, they had agreed, which was why she was sitting on the floor, cross-legged, and methodically blowing up balloons.

She shrugged as she carefully pinched the rubber opening and popped it out of her mouth. After the 50th balloon, she'd become somewhat of an expert as she tilted her head, the tip of her tongue poised in between her teeth in concentration, as she deftly twisted the material into a knot. With a sigh, she tossed it into the air, and it loftily floated amidst the sea of crimson red as she leaned over and pulled another one from its packaging.

She couldn't quite keep the sadness from her tone as she finally opened her mouth to respond. "There are tons of places to hang them; on the games, in front, and behind the counter…" she trailed off, cleared her throat to rid it of that annoying lump. The painfully big ball of emotion that seemed to be a permanent fixture as of late, and forced a smile on her face. "I know it's a lot, but I can do it by myself, Motoki-san," she assured and lifted the new balloon to her lips.

Motoki sighed, shook his head, tufts of hair falling onto his forehead as he bent down and picked up one of the balloons to inspect it. "There are more colors in the bag that Rei-chan left in the back, Usagi-chan," he murmured, a wistful half-smile splayed on his lips, and a muted sadness glistening from his eyes as he peered down at her.

Usagi shrugged, her cheeks tinged pink, and her gaze averted. "Crimson red is Harvard's color," she explained quietly, and though she wanted to say more, she snapped her mouth shut.

There was a moment, months ago, when she'd been willing to delve deeper into the feelings that she was sure was unfurling inside of her for the most important person in her life. He'd made it painfully clear, though, that he would only ever see her as his friend. His very _best_ friend, of course, but still. His unwitting rejection had been a harsh blow, and it had taken a couple of weeks to effectively convince herself that it had all been in her head.

And for a little while, things had been relatively normal again. But something had shifted in between them, and she couldn't, for the life of her, figure out what it was.

It was like Mamoru was only going through the motions, and though they still did everything together, he was _different_. More reserved, and more like the impenetrable shell that all of her friends had told her that he was, but that she had scoffed at them with amused disbelief.

She'd thought that maybe the emotional distance he was putting in between them was all in her head. Until one night, at the dinner table with her parents and Shingo, he'd unceremoniously announced the news that Harvard was offering him an opportunity that he'd already accepted weeks prior to telling them.

At that moment, she'd been infinitely grateful for her parents as they gasped with unfettered excitement, the chords of proud elation laced into their words as they praised him and proceeded to barrage him with questions that, in true Mamoru-like fashion, he'd very patiently answered. She'd hoped that they'd been sufficient enough distraction to hide the fact that she was _devastated,_ as she desperately tried to blink back the hot tears that had painfully pricked the corners of her eyes.

Because how could her best friend, whom she shared every single detail of her life with, manage to conveniently forget to even discuss with her this fantastic opportunity at a school a _kagillion miles away!_

She'd been angry with him after that, though she'd forcefully stamped the feelings down and plastered the same happy smile on her face when congratulating him.

It was probably her anger and anguished hurt that had spurred her to call Seiya the next day and ask him out on a date. She wasn't sure _why_ she'd done it, except that she was furious with her best friend, and she couldn't even tell him or anyone else about it. Because, she had no claim on Mamoru, and this was an incredible chance for him to pursue his dreams.

She _did_ like Seiya. She really honestly and truly did enjoy his company, and more importantly, _he_ liked _her_ back.

It was only when she started seriously dating Seiya that the painful distance between her and Mamoru solidified. Now, it felt like she was walking on eggshells around him, and even when they sat beside each other on the couch for movie night, it was like he wasn't there anymore.

Which, she supposed, was for the best. Since he was going to be going so far away.

Motoki's hand covered hers suddenly, and it pulled her from the tangled web of her inner thoughts. Startled, she lifted her gaze to peer into the warm, sympathetic, chocolate brown eyes of her friend that had knelt in front of her without her noticing.

He smiled softly and squeezed her hand in an effort to comfort her. "Usagi-chan," he murmured gently. "You know that you are the most important person in Mamoru-san's life, right?" he questioned his tone pleading.

She felt the heat creep up her neck and spread across her cheeks, along with that tingling sensation at the back of her throat and eyes. A familiar indication that she was on the verge of crying.

She forcibly swallowed, and adamantly nodded her head. "Yes," she whispered, her tone breathy and broken. "Of course, I know that," she lied, because these days, it was like she was grasping at strained threads with him. Despite her best effort to keep things as normal as possible.

Didn't she gush about Harvard on a daily basis with him? Ask him questions, and murmur in awe about how prestigious this opportunity was? All the while forcing a smile that was probably a shadow of what it had been because, he was acting like a cold, stupid jerk, but she was too terrified of losing him completely to call him out on it?

It was why she'd spent countless hours planning this surprise going away party for him. It was why she'd forced herself to twirl, laugh and smile while she'd painfully helped him pack up his apartment.

Motoki sighed sadly and shook his head, his expression etched with regret. "Usagi-chan, I know that I've told you this before, and I know that Mako-chan and your friends have told you on countless occasions," he began, "But, Mamoru-san…" he trailed off, and before he could finish, Usagi promptly interrupted him.

"I know, Motoki-san," she blurted, and pulled her hand away from his to nervously fiddle with the balloons.

If she had to hear one more time that Mamoru was in love with her, she was going to lose her mind. She'd thought that for a second, on the day they'd gone to the carnival, too. That perhaps his feelings were a little bit more than what they'd always been. She'd been wrong, though. Mamoru had never treated her any differently. It was _her_ that had begun to imagine things. They were only best friends, and now, maybe not even that.

Motoki exhaled deeply with regret and frustration and leveraged his hands onto the cold linoleum arcade floor to push himself to his feet. Usagi purposefully ignored his probing gaze while she forcibly regained control of her emotions.

"Well, Usagi-chan. I'm sure you'll throw him a great party," he assured, though his tone was soft and mournful. "The cake that Mako-chan made is in the fridge in the back, and the door key is on the counter. Do you want me to wait until you're done so that I can walk you home?"

His offer was sweet, and Usagi could tell he was genuinely worried, but she waved her hand dismissively with a grateful smile. "No, It's okay. I still have a ton to do. I'll make sure to lock up before I leave," she reassured softly.

His brow furrowed, and she could tell he was worried by the way he shifted from one foot to the other and chewed his lower lip nervously. "You know, I don't think I'm comfortable letting you walk home alone this late," he murmured with censure and uncertainty.

Usagi rolled her eyes, though she couldn't help the shy, appreciative smile that curled onto her lips. "Well," she stated, as she pulled herself to her feet. "If you're going to stay, you can help me hang up all of these balloons!" She exclaimed and tried for one of her signature dazzling smiles.

Motoki nodded, bent down, and picked up one of the horrible crimson balloons, a color that she had only just decided that she hated. He _did_ smile in response to hers, but her expression sobered slightly, and she turned quickly to avoid the look on his face.

They both knew that her smile, though well-meaning, didn't quite reach her eyes.

oOo

The Arcade was closed for the morning, much to the dismay of the regular crowd of teenagers that passed by with various expressions of annoyance and disappointment as they read the 'closed for private event' sign posted on the door.

Usagi, the dull ache of exhaustion throbbing into the beginnings of a headache at the back of her head, flit from one section of the room to the next. Everything was perfect; the interior was beautifully decorated with crimson balloons, red streamers and Makoto had truly outdone herself with the white, buttercream frosted cake that she'd meticulously, with great detail, piped on Harvard's insignia.

The crowd that had gathered to surprise Mamoru amidst the rows of arcade games was smaller than she would have liked, but, Mamoru didn't have any friends that she was aware of at Moto Azabu, as he mostly spent his free time with her and her family.

For the 6th time this morning, her breath caught in her throat, and her head snapped over to the door as the tinkling chime of the bell above it trilled loudly and announced someone's arrival.

Her shoulders that were tensed in anticipation relaxed, and she exhaled a deep breath with the realization that it wasn't him yet. Her parents and Shingo, whose face was glued to another handheld game console, were smiling as they stepped over the threshold.

The conversation in the room that stilled in anticipation of the big surprise resumed as the corners of Usagi's lips curled upwards into the practiced smile that had become her armor lately.

She stepped towards her parents, who were, in fact, running a little late, and couldn't help but feel her heart constrict painfully in her chest with worry.

Mamoru had always been the most reliable person in her life, but lately, his excuses were plentiful, and he showed up to the arcade later and later. She supposed it was because that was less time that he would have to spend with her.

She stamped down the painful realization and pressed forward, because she was determined to keep things as normal as possible between her and Mamoru, and she refused to dwell on the fact that he was twenty minutes late to meet her here.

Ikuko's smile was soft and tentative as Usagi stopped in front of them. "Darling," she greeted with a tender tilt of her head. "This looks fantastic! You've outdone yourself!" She exclaimed brightly. Shingo rolled his eyes, and her father nodded in agreement.

Usagi forcibly widened her smile, and visibly swallowed before responding. "Thank you, Mama," she whispered, and her voice, for the first time today, broke with emotion under the knowing look of her mother's crystal blue irises.

Ikuko smiled wistfully, and wordlessly lifted her arms. Usagi couldn't help it, as she clenched her eyes shut to ward off the unwanted tears, and allowed her mother to pull her into a hug.

Ikuko wrapped slender arms around her daughter, squeezed comfortingly, then gently pulled away. Usagi chewed her bottom lip, blinked back her tears and sadly met her mother's gaze.

"Oh, darling," she sighed and shook her head. "Mamoru is a wonderful young man. We are so proud of him, but honey, he will always be there for you," she assured softly, her tone soothing and filled with loving reassurance as she leaned forward and tucked a golden tendril of hair behind her daughter's ear.

It was enough to break through the poorly crafted shell of contrived happiness that she'd started living in. Her eyes welled with tears, and she sniffled as quietly as she could.

Ikuko's eyes glistened with shared emotion as she firmly straightened her shoulders, cleared her throat, and stepped towards her daughter. "Now, that's enough of that, darling. Don't cry," she demanded quietly, and placed a slender index finger under Usagi's chin and tilted her downcast gaze upwards. "Chin up! Everything is going to be fine," she reassured, and the comforting smile on her mother's face was convincing enough to elicit the first real smile from Usagi in weeks.

Usagi nodded and quickly wiped away an errant tear. "Mama, papa, there's food along the counter. I'm sure Mamo-chan will be here shortly," she offered and gestured behind her with a renewed determination to get through this party without blubbering like a baby.

Her mother winked, and her father squeezed her shoulder as they passed to go where she'd indicated. Shingo had already melted into the shadows along the wall to play his game in peace, and Usagi took a deep breath, plastered the fake smile onto her face, and turned to mingle with her friends.

She was having a conversation with Ami-chan, her lungs constricting nervously in the cavity of her chest with each minute that ticked by, when, _finally,_ the bell on top of the door chimed loudly, and Mamoru stepped into the arcade.

The litany of excited 'surprises!' echoed loudly throughout the room, and it almost felt like time slowed as she locked her gaze onto Mamoru. He stood rooted in place, cobalt blue eyes wide and startled, and his posture tense and unyielding.

She wanted to move towards him, and before things had become so strange between them, she would have. She would have bounded to his side, a wry smile on her lips and a playful twinkle glinting in the depths of her eyes. He might have responded by raising his eyebrows in exasperation, but then he would have probably ruffled her hair with a tender smile.

She didn't know _what_ to do now, and it was awful. It hurt so badly to think that things weren't like they should be anymore.

The thoughts and imagined images of how things _used_ to be was summoning those pained tears again, and she blinked them back, shook her head and slowly made her way through the crowd to her friend just in time to hear Motoki's exclaimed confession. "Usagi-chan was here most of the night getting this ready for you!"

Mamoru's expression was unreadable when his gaze lifted, and the unfathomable pools of his eyes fell onto her as she approached. "Usako," he said, his tone even with a tinge of raspy appreciation that made her relax. "You did this?" he questioned, a tuft of unkempt hair falling onto his forehead as he turned towards her.

She fought the urge to sweep it away, and, instead let the mask of her faux-happiness fall back into place. "Of course I did, Mamo-chan," she stated brightly, her tone edged with an overt sweetness that wasn't quite _her._

His responding smile didn't quite reach his eyes either, and she thought she might just weep at the tension between them. "Thank you, Usako. This is… it's perfect," he breathed gratefully, though still with that odd distance in his voice that made her feel like they were strangers.

She shrugged, her lips pressed tightly into a strained smile. _Why did it have to be this way?_ Was it because he was leaving, to go so far away? Mamoru was protective, he always had been, surely the painful way he was pulling away from her had something to do with that?

Motoki cleared his throat loudly, "Well, I'm going to go see if I can help Mako-chan with the cake," he murmured, though Usagi could tell by the way he shifted uncomfortably that it was an excuse.

The silence that fell between them when Motoki left them to their own devices was uneasy. Despite the intermingling sounds of conversation, the pinging of arcade games, and the clattering of plates thudding onto the countertops and tables, for her, as she peered pleadingly up into her best friends undecipherable expression, it felt like the sound had been sucked out of the room.

She swallowed around the lump lodged in her throat. "So, your flight is tomorrow?" It was a stupid question. He knew that she already knew that. Her parents were driving him to the airport, after all, but she didn't know what to say anymore.

His smile was small, sorrow-filled, and a wisp of what it used to be as he buried his hands into his pockets and nodded. "Yes," he replied. Then her breath caught in her throat as his gaze met hers and she caught a glimpse of _something_ in his eyes. "You'll come by my apartment tomorrow morning, Usako? To say…" he trailed off, snapped his mouth shut, then opened it again to finish his dreaded statement.

She interrupted him before he could. "Yes, of course," she blurted, her tone adamant and filled with conviction. "There is nowhere else I'd rather be," she admitted quietly, her voice breathy, her eyes wide and pleading.

The impassive expression that had become a permanent fixture on Mamoru's face lately fell firmly back into place as he nodded in response.

Her shoulders tensed and her fingers curled into fists that she pressed into the folds of her pink pleated skirt at her sides. This was _ridiculous._ She was angry with him, heartbroken by the way he had handled this entire move to Harvard and decided to just pull away from her. But the baka was her best friend, _no matter what,_ and there was no way she was going to let the stupidly handsome, irritatingly emotionally stunted boy _end_ it like _this_.

Her brows drew together into an irritated scowl. "Mamo-chan," she snapped, and it was the first time the anger, that was roiling painfully beneath the surface, tinged her words. "You promised," she said, and she couldn't suppress the accusatory tone in her voice.

She managed to startle him, and his eyes widened as he glanced down at her in confusion. "What do you-"

She interrupted him as she barrelled forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. It was a risk. She had no way of knowing _why_ he was acting stupid, but she'd always been able to hug her best friend.

He stumbled back slightly with the forceful impact of her embrace, but he was used to steadying her when she fell, and this was no exception. "You promised that you would still be my best friend," she snapped, her brooding words muffled into the fabric of his shirt.

He was tense for a moment, but with a sigh, she felt him relax beneath her fingers as he reciprocated her hug. "Usako, of course," he murmured as his arms tightened around her for a moment, before he released her and she hesitantly stepped away.

His expression was not the strange hardened mask that she'd become accustomed too lately. There was a look of regret and contrition etched into his expression, but it still did nothing to lessen her misery. "Mamo-chan, you've been so distant," she murmured miserably, her fingers fiddling with the bottom seam of her shirt nervously.

He grimaced regretfully and raked a hand through his hair. "Usako," he sighed. "I'm sorry if it felt that way, I swear, I didn't mean for it to be like that. I just thought it would be easier for you if…" he trailed off, and left the rest of the sentence unsaid. "You'll always be my best friend, Usa," he finished quietly instead.

She nodded, though her heart sank miserably because there was still _something_ trapped, unfinished, in between them.

She bit her bottom lip and watched as an array of expressions she didn't understand crossed his face. He visibly swallowed, fixed his gaze, determined and filled with resolve, onto her face. "Usako, I-"

Mamoru was interrupted as the door behind him flew open, and Seiya stepped into the arcade. His eyes scanned the room, and they lit up when they fell onto her. "Hey!" He exclaimed, slightly breathless because he was really, really late - _like he usually wa_ s- as he stepped around Mamoru to stand beside her.

He was sporting his signature half-smirk as he casually draped his arm across her shoulders. "Sorry. I know I'm super late," he apologized nonchalantly. "Wow! This place looks awesome, Usagi-chan," he praised before turning back towards Mamoru, whose expression, she noted with dismay, had returned to the cold, indifferent mask that she couldn't stand.

Seiya straightened and removed his arm from her stiffened shoulders. "Sorry to see you go, Mamoru-san. Harvard is a pretty fancy school, right?" he said with a sincerity, that Usagi noted was slightly forced. She bit her lower lip nervously, her gaze worried as she studied Mamoru's face.

She generally tried not to speak about Mamoru with Seiya or Seiya with Mamoru. It was like an unspoken agreement they'd all made because the boys both seemed to truly dislike the other. Though, she couldn't really understand why...They _were_ complete opposites. So she supposed she could see how Seiya's laid-back, often nonchalant attitude might rub Mamoru the wrong way.

Mamoru offered Seiya a tight smile, "Yes, it's a great opportunity," he murmured politely before turning back towards her. "Usako, I see your parent's over there. I'm just going to confirm the time with them for tomorrow," he said softly, his tone tender and wistful. "I'll see you later, okay?"

She nodded in response, and he offered her one more smile before pushing past them to wade through their friends that took turns wishing him well towards her parents.

Seiya said something into her ear from beside her, but she didn't hear it because her gaze was still fixed onto Mamoru's retreating back. Watching him walk away, even just across the room, was extremely painful. Though she did her best to deny it, she knew that things would never be the same again.

oOo

She could do _this. She could do this!_ She repeated the mantra in her head over and over as she stepped out of the elevator in Mamoru's apartment building the next morning. A takeaway coffee cup from Mont Thabor clutched in her hand as she slowly made her way down the hall.

She wasn't really sure if her repeated vow was really working, because, even the thought that she wasn't going to see this stupid hallway, with its fluorescent lighting and its gaudy blue, carpeted floors, again was eliciting tears that welled up traitorously in the corners of her eyes. Just waiting for her to open the floodgates and crumble to the floor in a sobbing mass of devastation.

Still, she blinked away the tears as rapidly as possible, consciously unfurled the fake smile onto her lips, and continued onwards.

When she made it to Mamoru's apartment door, it was partially opened. She took a deep breath and pressed her shoulder against it, and urged it into opening wider as she stepped over the threshold.

The creaking sound as the reinforced steel swept over the linoleum floor of the genkan echoed painfully loud in the emptied, hollow apartment. Usagi took one step forward but then froze on the step into the living room. Her breath caught in her throat, along with the lump of misery, as her glistening eyes scanned the bare room.

It shouldn't have caught her off guard, she'd been here to help him pack after all, but it still left her feeling breathless to see every indication that Mamoru had lived here _gone._ Well,except for his bags placed neatly by the door and a few boxes that were pressed against the wall in the living room.

She bit her lower lip and clenched her hands tightly around the cardboard coffee cup that she'd brought for him as she forced herself to exhale and step forward into the living room. Her movements were slow, uncharacteristically graceful, as she fixed her gaze onto the Minato skyline outside the window. The sky was still tinged with orange and red hues from the rising sun, and she noted that the view was breathtaking even as she attempted to dispel the feeling of dread that pressed painfully against her heart in her chest.

"Usako," the low baritone of his voice felt like, maybe, it mirrored her own feelings of misery, and she swiveled around to face him. His expression was softer than she'd seen in weeks as he stood in the apartment doorway. "You're here," he murmured, and she felt an unbidden thread of anger course through her. _Of course, she was here._ Did he think, for one second, that she wouldn't come to say goodbye?

He cleared his throat and stepped over the step of the genkan into the living room. "Have you been here long? I just had to run down to the lobby to bring the landlord the keys," he murmured with an apologetic half-smile, as he stopped and buried his hands into his pockets.

Usagi sighed, shook her head when she suddenly remembered that she had a key to the apartment, as well. She leaned forward, placed the coffee cup onto the windowsill, and tried not to think about how agonizing this was, as she fumbled through her purse to find her ring of keys.

The silence was deafening, and her cheeks burned hotly as her shaking fingers hurriedly untangled the keys until she unwove his from the metal meshing and wordlessly held it out to him.

His smile was taut, wrought with shared misery as, with a curt nod, he leaned forward to take it from her. Her knees nearly buckled when his fingers grazed hers before he pulled away and slipped the key into the pocket of his jeans. "Thanks, Usako," he whispered, cleared his throat, and placed more effort into plastering a smile onto his face. "I'll make sure to hand it in on the way out."

Though she was pleased to see that he was just as miserable as she was, it didn't really make her feel much better as she nodded and, once again, the silence stretched awkwardly between them. Was this really how all of this was going to end? The boy that she'd told all of her darkest, most intimate secrets to, who'd grown with her, had held her through the most challenging moments of her life, and had promised to remain her best friend forever, was really going to just leave to a go to a foreign school for _four years_ on this strange, sour note?

The thought made her throat constrict painfully with equal parts anger, and agony, and she was contemplating slapping the stupid coldness out of him when he finally spoke.

"Usa, I have something for you," he said, effectively pulling her from her anguished inner musings, and her gaze snapped up to lock onto him,

Her brows drew together as she watched him lean down and rummage through the box that had been left in the living room before his posture straightened, a weathered, brown leather-bound book that she'd never seen before clutched firmly in his hands.

He stood frozen, his back to her, and his gaze fixed onto the book in silence for a moment. She watched him draw in a shaky, nervous breath before he turned back towards her. She was taken aback by the pained stricken expression on his face as he hesitantly held the book out for her.

Her brows were creased into a confused frown, and her gaze scrutinized the way his cheeks reddened as she shakily took the book from his hands. "What is this, Mamo-chan?" She asked, her tone laced with confusion and curiosity as she glanced down at it, tested its weight in her palms, and reverently ran the pad of her thumb over one of the many scuff marks on its surface.

He nervously cleared his throat. "Open it," he said, his tone as ragged as she felt. She glanced at his nervous expectant face one last time before she slowly pulled the yellowed pages apart. The sheets were blank, completely empty, but the book automatically fell open, and there in the middle was a small rose pressed between the pages. It was aged, discolored and its brittle petals were frail. An indication that it had been there for a long time.

Her frown deepened, her heart thrumming faster in her chest as she peered up at him. "I don't understand, Mamo-chan," she murmured, bewildered, not quite comprehending what it was that he'd handed her.

He chuckled softly and nervously raked a hand through his unkempt hair. "It's the rose that you gave me in the hospital when we were little, Usako," he confessed quietly. She inhaled sharply, and her eyes widened when his sorrow-filled gaze met hers, and he offered her a hesitant smile. "I've always kept it in my bedside table. I just thought…" he choked on the words, "Well, Usako. I just wanted you to know that your friendship means everything to me… and I know that things have been _different_ between us lately. But I just want you to know that I will always be there for you. So, you-"

His words were compelling enough to rip through the small barrier she'd managed to build to keep her emotions in check. She didn't hear the end of what he had to say, as she snapped the book shut and it slipped from her fingers and fell to the ground.

The tears she'd been keeping at bay fell from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks in torrential droves as a broken, strangled sob tore from her lips. She buried her face in her hands, her chest heaving with the broken cries that rattled painfully in her throat.

She heard his pained groan as he pulled her into his arms, and she clutched the front of his blue button-down shirt, her fingers twisted into the fabric that was quickly becoming wet with her tears. "Mamo-chan," she sobbed brokenly. "I hate that you're leaving to go to Harvard," she cried. And it was true. She'd vowed not to say these things to him, to send him off with that stupid plastic-like smile, but she couldn't reign her emotions in.

His arms tightened around her, steadying her as her knees buckled and she buried her head further into the hardened expanse of his chest. "Who is going to hold me when it storms? Or-or-or catch me every time I fall? Because I fall- so-so much!" She blurted in between truncated sobs. "Or who will protect me when you're gone, Mamo-chan?"

He didn't answer right away, though she wouldn't have been able to hear him over her crying, even if he had. It was only when her shoulders stopped heaving, and her tears and sobs of anguish subsided that he stepped back, cupped her chin firmly in his hand and tilted her face upwards to meet his soft, understanding gaze.

"Usako," he whispered, and his expression was like the Mamo-chan that she'd always known. "Listen to me. This isn't goodbye forever, Usa," he reassured, a comforting half smile on his lips, as the pad of his thumb swept across her cheekbone to wipe away the remnants of her tears. "I'm going to call you every day. If anything interesting happens, which it probably won't because you're _here_ , I'll text you," he assured with a soft chuckle that managed to elicit a watery smile from her.

"If it storms, we can video chat through the whole thing, Usa. No matter where I am, or what I'm doing. I promise that I will be there to talk you through it," he vowed firmly. "And, Usako you don't need _anyone_ to protect you. You're an expert monster fighter, remember?" His expression sobered completely, and he choked on the emotion she felt pummeling her heart as his gaze locked, unblinkingly, onto hers. "I know you fought mine," he admitted quietly.

She shook her head, strands of golden-colored hair twisting around her face with the movement. Didn't he know how much she relied on him? How crucial he was in every aspect of her life?

She pulled away with another broken sob and protectively wrapped her arms around her midsection. Her fingers clutching her bared forearms as she painfully dug her nails into her skin.

She swallowed down her emotions and forcibly blinked back another renewed onslaught of tears as she bravely faced him. "I can't go to the airport with you, Mamo-chan," she admitted brokenly. "I just can't say goodbye to you there." She felt awful about her inability to be there. It was reflected in her tone that was contrite and laced with tear-filled remorse.

Mamoru responded with a soft, understanding smile. "I know, Usa. It's okay," he whispered. "I'm going to the bank first, and then I'm going to your house to meet your parents. I knew you'd need to say…" he cleared the emotion from his throat. "To say goodbye here," he finished firmly.

The sadness in his posture, carved into the contours of his face, and glinting from the pools of cobalt blue eyes broke her resolve. She nodded, bit her lip to keep from crying again as she knelt down to pick up the book with the rose and reverently slip it into her purse.

She took a deep breath and flew towards him to wrap her arms around his waist for one, final hug. "Goodbye, Mamo-chan," she whispered, and before he had time to reciprocate her embrace or respond to her brokenhearted farewell, she'd swiveled around and flown through the apartment door.

It took every ounce of strength that she possessed not to pause and look back at him.

oOo

She wasn't sure where she'd really meant to go as she'd blindly, but determinedly, placed one foot in front of the other. Her vision was blurred, her heart a racing mess as she forcibly elbowed and pushed her way through teeming crowds of pedestrians on the busy sidewalk.

She should have gone home. She should have forced a smile just a little bit longer to at least wave him off at the airport. But she couldn't. She was confused, because, surely if he were just her friend, this wouldn't be as painful as it was. _Would it?_

She wasn't sure what led her to Seiya's house, and she hesitated, her arms wrapped around her midsection and her lower lip poised in between her teeth as she stood on the red cedarwood porch and fixed her gaze onto his front door.

She liked Seiya. _She did_. She furiously wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. She had to like him because otherwise, she'd have to admit that she…

She didn't finish her thought as she forcibly swallowed, took a deep breath, and summoned the dreaded fake smile that hurt her cheeks. She only needed to knock twice before the door flew open and the long-haired boy stood in the doorway. A look of surprised confusion etched onto his face.

He was handsome, right? Tall, dark-haired, with chiseled features. She could learn to love him. _Couldn't she?_

"Usagi-chan?" He exclaimed, his tone bewildered and a puzzled look glinting from his eyes. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going with your parents to bring Mamoru-san to the airport," he questioned with raised eyebrows and a tilt of his head.

His gaze swept over her, and she knew that she must look like a tear-stained wreck. So, she shrugged nonchalantly and forced her smile to widen. "I didn't want to go. I wanted to see you instead," she said with a forced brightness that Mamoru would have seen through in an instant.

Seiya's face lit up though, and his signature smirk splayed out across his lips. Which, in turn, generated a thread of horrified guilt that coursed through her.

He stepped aside and gestured his hand to wave her through the door. She smiled, as she brushed past him, and wordlessly stepped over the threshold.

She'd been to Seiya's on several occasions to watch him sing in his garage during band practice. As far as she knew, Seiya lived with his mother, though Usagi had yet to meet her. From what she'd gathered in their conversations about family, his mother was rarely home, and he was mostly left to his own devices.

She inwardly sighed with relief when Seiya began to talk as she took off her shoes and let him lead her into the living room.

Seiya had many admirable qualities, but, he was definitely an extrovert. Overly so, and sometimes, she couldn't get a word in edgewise. It did bother her on occasion because she couldn't help but compare him to Mamoru, who remained silent, and whose tender eyes _always_ observed and _listened_ to her. Today, though, it was a blessing that helped to drown out the strange thoughts and feelings that she was sure she'd forcibly eradicated months ago.

Seiya offered her a drink, that she declined, as she lowered herself to sit onto the well-worn flower patterned sofa in the sparsely decorated living room.

He moved to sit beside her, and she wondered if Mamoru was in the car at that very moment. Was he thinking about her too?

Seiya laughed at one of his own jokes, a punchline she hadn't heard because she was wondering how she hadn't known that he'd kept the rose she'd given to him as a child. _What did that mean?_

She was startled out of her tortured thoughts, suddenly, when Seiya took her hands in his. Her eyes focused onto his face that was suddenly inches from hers because he'd knelt down in front of her.

She sucked in a breath, and her eyes widened fearfully, because Seiya had never kissed her before and, truthfully, she didn't think she wanted him to.

That was not the type of look etched onto his face though, and her brow furrowed in confusion at the doleful glint in his eyes, and his smirk that was now a wistful smile.

He sighed sadly, and his hands were warm as they enveloped hers. "Usagi-chan," he murmured. "What are you doing here?"

Her frown deepened, and her confusion intensified. "What do you mean?" She asked softly as she tilted her head, and studied his face.

He sighed again, and shifted his weight as he leaned back, his shoulders slumped, and his expression melted into resigned defeat. "You know what I mean, Usagi. You don't really want to be here with me. It's always been Mamoru-san for you," he stated sadly.

She opened her mouth to protest, but he promptly interrupted her before she could speak. "I should have known better, you know?" He began, his eyes filled with longing as they fixed onto her face. "I mean, I knew that he was head over heels in love with you when I walked through the door for that stupid double date, and _you_ ," he paused miserably and shook his head. "Well, you wouldn't stop talking about him. So, I bowed out. It was the right thing to do, but then, at the carnival. You were just so damn adorable, and I'll admit it. I wanted you," he confessed, his eyes glossed over with misery.

Usagi's eyes were wide and filled with horror, her heart racing brutally fast in her chest. "Seiya," She croaked painfully. "What do you mean you knew he was in love with me?" She whispered.

Her words managed to stun Seiya, and his eyes widened with confusion as he scanned her face for an indication that she might be lying. "Damn, Usagi-chan," he exclaimed with a shake of his head. "Do you really _not_ know? You have a million friends! Hasn't anyone _told_ you?" He asked with a disbelieving bark of laughter.

Her frown turned into an annoyed scowl, and her cheeks reddened in embarrassment. _Of course,_ the girls had said something along those lines… but, she'd thought they were just trying to make her feel better.

When she didn't respond, Seiya laughed drily. "Well, damn, Usagi-chan," he practically whispered. He took a deep breath, his face hardening with determination as he squeezed her hands and fixed his gaze onto hers. "Mamoru-san is in love with you," he began his tone firm and filled with resolve. "I thought that you knew, and you let him down gently. I decided that I could handle the way he looked at you if you were looking at _me,_ " he laughed sardonically. "I mean hell, Usagi. The guy is only going to Harvard because he can't stand that he's not with you," he professed with disgust.

Usagi was breathless, her heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, she thought surely she was drying. Because this was _so_ painful to hear. There was no way.

She opened her mouth, but she couldn't speak, all of her words tangled up on her tongue and the only thing she could do was emit a horrified squeak of dismay.

It didn't matter, because Seiya wasn't done twisting the knife into her heart.

"Look, Usagi. I've always known that Mamoru-san is in love with you, and I think I know now," he took a deep breath filled with defeat before he smiled sadly, leaned over and longingly tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. "You love him, too," he stated. There was no anger in his voice, only a despondent finality that took her breath away.

The tears welled in her eyes, because, he was right. She _was_ in love with him. So in love with him that she'd been afraid to admit that she might want to be with him out loud. So in love with him, that his perceived rejection to words she hadn't even spoken had crushed her so painfully that she'd spent months ignoring her feelings and grasping at normalcy between them. A normal that had never settled again, because, maybe … maybe he loved her too?

She swallowed and took a deep, shaky breath as she faced the boy that she would have never fallen in love with, despite her best efforts, because he would never be Mamoru. "Seiya," she whispered. "I'm so sorry," she apologized as a tear slid listlessly down her face.

Seiya grimaced, and slowly pulled himself to his feet. His eyes were wistful as he stared down at her. "I know, Usagi-chan," he said mournfully. "Damn, I wish I had met you first," he said with a humorless laugh and a dry, misery-filled smile. "I think you should go," he said and held his hand out to help her up.

She nodded, took his hand and leveraged it to stand. Without warning, she leaned forward and pulled him into a friendly hug. He was caught off guard, so he didn't have time to reciprocate before she pulled away.

"Thank you," she whispered with a grateful smile.

He nodded, and she swiveled around, an urgency in her movements as she flew through his front door and raced down his porch steps.

Her heart was pounding, the blood racing in her ears as she fumbled with her purse and pulled out her phone.

She cursed loudly when the time flashed up at her because he would almost be at the airport now, and she didn't care if Seiya was wrong about how he felt. She needed to tell him. She needed him to know that she loved him, and that, no matter what, she was going to wait for him _forever_.

She could feel an urgency induced panic attack starting as she stared at the screen of her phone, her mind racing through possible solutions to her predicament. Her eyes lit up suddenly, and a determined smile curled onto her lips.

There was only _one_ person that she knew who owned a car. Luckily, that person was reckless enough to ignore a few traffic laws to get her there on time.

Her fingers trembled as she unlocked her phone and pressed the contact icon on her screen. She could barely breathe as she swiped across the glass, and scrolled down until she found the number she was looking for.

She pressed the pink-cased device to her ear. Her hand shaking with anticipation when it was answered after the first ring.

"Mina-chan… I need your help."

oOo

She'd rehearsed what she what she was going to say, even as Minako chattered all the way to the airport. It was the only time that she would ever be grateful for her friends dreadful driving because she easily cut away half an hour off of the trip.

When Minako's tires squealed to halt, right in the middle of one way traffic, and propelled her body forward against the dashboard, she didn't hesitate in opening the door. She ignored the shrill sound of the horns from the angry drivers that had been forced to slam their brakes and stop behind Minako's little red Nissan.

"Thanks, Mina-chan!" she exclaimed to the bright-eyed, blonde-haired girl who winked at her as she bounded out of the car, and her shoes scraped across the pavement.

"Good luck, Usagi-chan!" Minako called out loudly behind her. "Sweep him off his hands!"

Usagi didn't have time to respond to Minako's well-meaning, though mangled, proverb usage. She was like a whirlwind. A blur of gold and pink fabric as the soles of her black mary-jane heels slammed against the pavement with each step as she dodged a woman pulling a rolling suitcase, and a businessman yelling into his phone.

Her heart hammered in her chest, and her lungs burned painfully with exertion as she waded through the maze of the airport, and prayed, with everything inside of her, that her clumsy tendencies wouldn't suddenly kick in and knock her to the ground.

She wasn't sure what she would do if she didn't reach him in time. She could call him, or text him certainly, but the thought of confessing like _that_ was one that made her heart constrict with dread. It had to be face to face. She needed to see the look in his eyes so that she would know if he felt the same way.

She was losing hope, as her side began to cramp and she was forced to stop amidst the din of a bustling crowd. Her eyes burned with tears of frustration as she twirled in place, and her eyes scanned the signs hanging and flashing brightly from the ceiling. Flight to America. Flight to America… _where are you?!_

She was on the verge of bursting into tears when she suddenly spotted a flash of familiar lavender locks in her peripheral vision. She abruptly craned her neck to the side and could have wept with relief at the sight of her parents making their way through the crowd.

The blood drained from her face, and the relief was short-lived, though, when she noted that they were not with Mamoru. _No._ She couldn't be too late!

She was contemplating how long it would take, and how much money she had in her savings account, to purchase a ticket to get through customs as she furiously swiveled around and rapidly raced towards her parents.

Her mother's eyes widened, and she halted in her tracks as she was the first to catch sight of her daughter. "Usagi!" she gasped, "Quickly! He's just going through the gate now!" Ikuko exclaimed and gestured animatedly towards where they had just come from.

Usagi, breathless, nodded gratefully and brushed past her parents without stopping. _There was still enough time!_ Her golden tresses of hair whipped around her as she weaved, more graceful than she'd _ever_ managed, through the crowd of people that were slowing and lining up to reach her intended destination.

Her eyes were watering as she stopped, and propelled herself onto the tips of her toes to see over the heads of the family that stopped directly in front of her. It took great restraint on her part not to yell at them to get out of _her way!_

Her stomach began to churn, and her eyes burned with disappointment when suddenly, she caught sight of him. He was leaning over, fiddling with his black wheelie case, and her breath hitched, almost painfully, in her throat.

He was _so_ handsome; tufts of unkempt raven hair that fell in front of soulful cobalt blue eyes. His profile stoic, chiseled and emanating a kind strength that she'd always taken for granted.

He was almost at the gate, and the realization spurred her forward, as the anticipation painfully constricted in her chest. "Wait!" she screamed, though her voice was raspy from the exertion she'd expelled running. "Mamo-chan!"

She could have wept with relief when he twisted around, his eyes wide and surprised as she barreled towards him. "Usako?" He exclaimed, bewildered, just as she barreled into him.

He grunted with the force of the impact as she curled slender arms around his neck and buried her face into the crook of his shoulder. His arms automatically wrapped around her waist, and she sighed with relief as she weaved her fingers into the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck.

"Usa, you came," he whispered, his chin resting on her shoulder and his breath fanning warmly against her ear. She could hear it then, the longing in his voice, and she was so mad at herself that she hadn't heard it before.

She pulled away just far enough to be able to peer up into his face. His eyes were warm, gentle, and _surely_ that was love that she could see shining there.

At that moment, the confession that she'd carefully rehearsed in Minako's car disappeared like a tiny wisp of smoke in her mind. She was overwhelmed by all the warring emotions that were straining inside of her chest, and it reflected in the jumbled words that spilled haphazardly from her trembling lips.

The tears in her eyes were tears of frustration now as she tilted her face upwards to glare at him. "You stupid baka!" she spat angrily. "Do you _know_ that only 2% of long-distance relationships actually work?" she questioned furiously, and his eyes narrowed in confusion. "I mean, _of course,_ we're going to be a part of the 2%. It's just so annoying, you know?" She said and furiously shook her head. This wasn't what she'd _meant_ to say, but it was the first thing that popped into her mind.

Mamoru sighed, an indulgent smile on his lips as he stared down at her. "Usako," he murmured. "I already told you that we will always be friends-"

She groaned loudly and stomped her foot in frustration, effectively interrupting him. "No, baka," she practically growled. "I mean _romantic_ relationship, you idiot. Because I'm in love with you," she confessed vehemently.

He inhaled sharply, his body tensed, and his arms tightening around her. "What?" he croaked, his expression stunned, and his mouth parted slightly in shock.

Usagi swallowed, her heart thumping loudly in her chest because she wasn't sure now if he felt the same way. She strengthened her resolve. It didn't matter either way. She could handle the rejection, but he _had_ to know.

She took a deep breath and bravely met his shocked gaze. "Look, I should have told you months ago, the minute I knew, but I was afraid. I mean, you _are_ my best friend Mamo-chan, but I can't pretend like I don't want you to be more than that anymore," she blurted, the words spilling from her lips without restraint.

"Wait, months?" Mamoru hissed, his brow furrowing into a scowl.

She grimaced, her heart sinking with disappointment as she blinked back her tears and began to pull away. "If you don't feel the same way, that's okay, M-"

He growled, the sound guttural and filled with frustration, as he pressed one palm onto the small of her back, and urged forward, while the other hand interlaced into the hair at the back of her head. She gasped, her lips parted in shock as his head swept down and he pressed his lips against hers.

It was her first kiss, and at first, she wasn't sure what to do. But as his lips molded against hers and began to move with passionate ferocity, she lost herself in a daze of bliss as she let her instincts take over. She melted against him, propelled herself to the tips of her toes, and matched his movements as her fingers raked at the hair at the nape of his neck.

It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. It was blissful perfection, it was a desire that curled warmly in the pit of her stomach, it was everything she wanted. And it was with Mamo-chan. The most important person in her life. The little boy that had become her protector, her best friend and now the man that she loved with a blinding ferocity that made her heart swell painfully in her chest.

When they finally pulled apart, they were breathless, flushed, and trembling with something so powerful it made her skin tingle.

He clenched his eyes shut, and pressed his forehead against hers, their labored breathing intermingling between them. "God, Usako," he whispered. "I love you, too," he confessed, and his voice broke with emotion.

She exhaled sadly, as the daze dissipated and the very real reality of their situation sank in. "How long, Mamo-chan?" She demanded softly, and he lifted his head and his hands that tenderly cupped her face. The tips of his fingers interwoven into the wispy tendrils of hair curled at her temples.

The look in his eyes took her breath away. "It's always been you, Usako. Always."

The words evoked a new set of tears that were equal parts happiness and devastation. "Mamo-chan," she choked. "You're leaving now," she whispered miserably and tried to avert her gaze, but he held her face in place.

She could see the array of emotion cross his face and the way his brow furrowed in quiet contemplation. "I'll stay, Usako," he admitted. "I would stay for you."

Her breath hitched in her throat, and she bit her lower lip as her eyes studied his expression. He was _serious._ He would give up Harvard for her, and it was tempting, _so tempting,_ to beg him to stay.

The thought was fleeting though, and she exhaled a strangled breath of sadness. "No, Mamo-chan," she whispered. "You need to go. You know you do," she said with a resigned smile.

His face fell, and he shook his head in protest, "Usako, I don't want to leave you," he whispered hoarsely as his hands tenderly trailed the curve of her neck, then her shoulders before resting on her hips.

She nodded with silent understanding, leaned forward and softly pressed her lips onto his again.

She pulled away before he had time to reciprocate. "I know, but, if you can wait this long for me. Well, I can wait a measly four years for you, right?" She said brightly, with an attempt at lightheartedness.

"Usako-"

She interrupted him with another chaste kiss on the lips. "We can do this, Mamo-chan. Just like you said," she stated with conviction. "Besides, it's not the 90's or something," she said in a matter of fact manner. "We have cell phones, and emails, and-"

He interrupted her list of ways to communicate with another breathtaking kiss that effectively felt like it had melted her bones.

When he pulled away this time, she could see the acceptance shining sadly from his eyes. "Okay, Usa. Damn," he sighed. "Was it _really_ months?" he demanded in disbelief.

She nodded, sadly and he groaned with despair, though, she felt the tension visibly dissipate from between them. She felt lighter, somehow, and she knew that what they had was epic. They could handle this.

There was a call that echoed on the intercom around them. A last-minute warning to board his flight, and it was like their bubble popped, and she realized that they were standing, intimately interlocked, in the middle of a busy airport.

Her cheeks reddened, and he chuckled as he leaned down to give her one final, heart-stopping kiss before he forcibly pulled away.

He was as reluctant to leave her as she was to let him go, but still, he leaned forward, clasped his bag and forcibly tore away from her.

She forced a smile onto her face, though it was no longer hiding anguish, and waved at him as he handed his ticket to the attendant and stiffly made his way through the gate that would bring him to the plane that would take him to America.

He didn't look back as he walked, and she knew it was because, if he did, he might never leave.

She pressed her fingers onto her lips as she slowly made her way back through the crowd.

She stopped and stood by the double-glass paned windows to watch the plane that he was on pull out onto the tarmac.

She was surprised that she could feel her heart pounding in her chest because surely it wasn't there. It was with him on that plane. Her eyes welled with tears, and she stopped breathing because she missed him so much already.

Suddenly, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and, with a frown on her face, she pulled it out into her palm. The name Mamo-chan flashed up at her in big, white letters, and she trembled as she swiped across the glass screen to read the text message. _"Breathe, Usako. Miss you already. Love you. Call you when I land,"_ and she did breathe then.

She exhaled deeply with relief. Feeling giddy and elated and _so_ in love. She knew then, at that moment, that she was irrevocably, and one hundred percent head over heels in love with her best friend, and, despite the overwhelming challenges that faced them, it was the happiest moment of her life.

 **The end...**

 **JUST KIDDING!  
**

 **You guys. I can't leave it here! There NEEDS to be an epilogue, right?**

 **EPILOGUE coming soon!**


	12. Epilogue

**A/N:** Okay guys. This is actually it. This is the actual complete and total ending of this story. Admittedly, I struggled with this final, tiny epilogue more than I did with every other chapter. Because, well, I suck at no angst. I really do guys, and I had to rewrite this several times, as apparently I can't help myself? Anyways, I hope this is satisfying for you! Please be nice at my attempt at fluff!

For every single reviewer, favoriter, and follower, I know I did not respond to you all separately, but just know, I am truly grateful for every single one of you! I am so grateful for this piece of the fandom, and the super supportive readers that live in it! THANKS!

Also, Thanks to my darling, wonderful, beautiful bee eff effs. Ninjette Twitch and Revy679- like, I just love you guys, okay?

Okay, well... eek! Time to read the end. Please be kind? :)

 **Epilogue **

Mamoru grunted, unkempt strands of black hair falling into his eyes, as he dropped the last box amidst the sea of boxes scattered and piled across the floor in the living room. He exhaled with relief, stretched the kink out of his neck as he scanned the apartment.

His eyes narrowed onto an oddly placed assortment of boxes stacked _unusually_ high; the black duvet for his bed draped across the opposing stacks. His duvet that he knew _for a fact_ had been neatly folded and packed in one of the boxes that he was sure he could now see placed at the very bottom of the towering structure.

He rolled his eyes, shook his head in exasperation, even as he couldn't help the way that the corners of his lips quirked up into a tender smile of amusement. "Usako," he began as he stepped through the cardboard maze towards where he knew she was currently hidden. "I know that there's no way that I was moving _all_ of our boxes up three flights of stairs, while you have been in here, supposedly _unpacking,_ but actually building a fort," he admonished, his tone lightly scolding as he stopped in front of the hastily crafted formation, that was actually more elaborate than he'd previously surmised.

 _Were those his sheets being used as a doorway?_

Sure enough, the blonde in question popped her head through the fabric, and his breath caught in his throat like it always did at the sight of her. His smile involuntarily widened as she peered up at him from beneath lacy black lashes. Her eyes shone with an adorable look of playful innocence, and silken-blonde tendrils of hair escaped her long, thick braid, framing her heart-shaped face.

The ridiculously kissable, ample curve of her lips quirked up into a sheepish smile. "So, here is the thing, Mamo-chan," she began and blinked up at him sweetly. "I was totally unpacking. Just like I said! When I realized that we won't have _anywhere_ to sleep tonight!" She exclaimed.

He raised an eyebrow in amusement. "I assumed that we would be sleeping in our bedroom, Usako," he replied, with a chuckle and a confused shake of his head.

Usagi nodded, her cheeks pink-tinged. "Right, yes. I see how you would think that, but let's be serious, Mamo-chan," she said with an adorably serious look on her face. "There is no way we're going to unpack the bedroom enough to put up the bed tonight, and we want to be cozy our first night in our new apartment, right?" She defended brightly.

He suppressed another chuckle and nodded slowly as he carefully considered his next words. "So… instead of unpacking, you spent all this time building a fort, so we'd have somewhere cozy to sleep because there wasn't going to be enough time to unpack the bedroom?" He tried to ask it seriously, but it was difficult to restrain the amusement in his tone.

Her brow furrowed into an indignant frown and her lips pursed into a sullen pout. "Well, I mean, if you say it _that_ way," she sighed with contrived annoyance, as she leaned forward, and pressed her palms onto the floor to propel herself into a kneeling position.

With a dimpled smile, she held her hand up to him. "Help me up?" She asked brightly, a sweetly innocent inflection layered beneath her tone.

He should have expected it, and if he'd bothered to look closely, he would have seen the mischievous glint in her eyes. As it stood, he'd been too focused on her lips. So, when he leaned forward, an indulgent smile on his face, and clasped her arm, he was caught off guard when, instead of leveraging his arm to stand, she yanked him forward.

He gasped in surprise, and she giggled as he toppled right through the doorway of her makeshift fort. He barely had time to brace his weight, a flurry of intermingling limbs, and his face hovering just above hers, as he fell on top of her and pressed her lithe form into a sea of pillows.

The resulting sensuous smile that curled onto her lips took his breath away as she lifted her arms to wrap around his neck. Slender fingers tenderly weaving through the hair at the back of his head. "See?" She whispered with a come-hither smile as her breath warmly fanned across his face. "Didn't I say this was cozy?"

He took a moment to soak in the sight of her, glossy curls, pink-tinged skin and a hooded look in her eyes that effectively made his heart hammer inside the cavity of his hardened chest that was currently nestled against the soft, enticing curve of hers. Sometimes, he still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that they were together, and he could hold her like this.

He smiled softly, and her arms slipped from around his neck as he shifted his weight and leaned onto his side facing her. He propped himself up onto his elbow and perched his head into his open palm. His eyes were filled with tenderness as he gently traced the curve of her jaw with his free hand, and lovingly caressed the side of her face.

He chuckled softly when he felt her shudder beside him. "I see the appeal," he replied huskily, then bent his head down to press his lips onto the slender curve of her jaw, just below her ear.

There was a hitch in her breath as she arched into him, and curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt; clutching tightly as she pulled him in closer. "Mamo-chan," she murmured and craned her head to the side to grant him better access. He eagerly complied by trailing kisses along the sensitive, exposed skin of her neck. "I'm so happy you're finally home," she confessed breathily, her body trembling enticingly against him.

He smiled against her skin, then lifted his head to gaze down into her upturned face. "Me too, Usa," he replied softly.

It had, admittedly, been the longest two years of his life. He'd never been more furious with himself, and his own stupidity, than he had the moment he'd torn himself from Usagi, and stepped onto the plane that would take him to America. How much time had he wasted by not admitting that he loved her sooner?

He'd vowed, after that, to make sure he was honest with her. Though old habits were hard to break as, in the beginning, they'd needed to adjust to a long distance relationship, a thirteen hour time difference, and the overwhelming workload that came hand in hand with being a student at an Ivy league school.

Since they were surviving solely on text messages, an hour-long conversation before he left for class, and she went to bed, communication had been vital in making this work. At first, it had been a challenge, especially for him, and it felt like it was almost impossible.

But, he'd spent most of his life desperately pining for her, and Usako was relentlessly persistent and filled with a bubbly optimism that persevered until, finally, he received the letter that he'd been accepted for a transfer to Keio University. So, two years later, during which time he'd only been able to make the trip back to see her three times (though they'd _definitely_ made up for lost time during those trips), he was finally home. Where he should have stayed in the first place.

Usagi, though he admired how hard she'd worked, had barely managed to graduate high school, and had only been accepted into community college by the skin of her teeth. She was going to give it her best shot in child care, though her ultimate goal was to become a social worker for children in the foster care system. He was first-hand proof that she would excel in _that_ field.

Motoki, who'd gone abroad with Reika (whom he was _very_ serious about, after-all) had recommended that Usagi fill his part-time position at the Crowne arcade to his parents that had gratefully accepted.

He'd come home shortly after she graduated, and though he'd stayed at the Tsukino's for a short time, it only made sense that they would move in together.

Which was how he currently found himself curled up on the floor, in a ridiculous makeshift fort, with the love of his life. They had two weeks to settle in before he started up at Keio, and she started school.

Two blissful weeks that he intended to take full advantage of.

Her lips pressed against his, and her fingers fiddling with the buttons of his shirt effectively pulled him from his thoughts. With a groan, he resumed his gentle ministrations on her neck. His mouth, of its own accord, explored the dip of her collarbone, while his fingers interlaced into the strands of her glorious hair before hotly trailing down the soft, tender slopes of her body.

Things were escalating into a passionate frenzy, a fervent haze of hitched breathing, flushed skin, and tender kisses when one of them must have hit a box with their foot. It shook the foundation of Usagi's, admittedly poorly crafted fort, and he barely had time to shield her as the boxes tumbled on top of them.

Luckily, there were no injuries as, breathless and laughing, they dug their way out from beneath the mess, and he stood, grasped her wrist, and pulled her to her feet. Her braid was nearly completely undone now; her hair twisting and twirling around her. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips swollen. She was so damn beautiful, it almost hurt to look at her.

She propped her hands onto her hips and offered him a sheepish smile as she scanned the scattered boxes of her things at their feet. "Probably a good thing that we didn't sleep in there," she admitted with a chiming giggle that made him smile.

He was about to sweep her back into his arms so that they could finish what they'd started on the sofa that was only a couple of feet away when her eyes lit up, and her grin widened, and she bent down to turn over one of the boxes that had torn partially open in the fall.

"Oh! My clothes! Thank God," she exclaimed excitedly as she leaned down and rummaged through the contents.

His brow creased into a frown suddenly, because he distinctly remembered bringing up _four_ other boxes, _huge boxes_ , labeled 'Usagi's clothes.' "How can there be _another_ box, Usako?" he asked with disbelief. "You know we only have one closet, right?" he said with exasperation.

Her movements stilled, suddenly, and she glanced up at him over her shoulder. His frown deepened at the strangely mischievous look on her face. "Well," she sighed with contrived resignation. "I guess I can get rid of _some_ of it," she said, with a long-suffering sigh of defeat, and there was a blur of black fabric clasped in her hand as she straightened, and twisted around to face him.

His eyes narrowed as they fixed onto her face. There was _no way_ he was going to win _that_ easily, and his suspicions were confirmed when her lips curled into a knowing smirk, and she held up the garment that she'd pulled from the box.

"Guess I'll just throw this out then," she said airily, with a nonchalant shrug. It took a moment before Mamoru recognized the black dress. It was the one she'd worn on her first date so long ago. His breath caught in his throat as the image of her _wearing_ that dress popped into his head. He remembered that she'd been a heart-stopping, breathtaking vision of absolute _perfection._ His gaze snapped to her eyes, that were watching him with knowing amusement that almost made him groan.

She blinked up at him innocently, "I mean, when you told me what this dress did for you in that video chat, I made sure to get it back from Mina-chan," she said lightly, then crumpled it up into her hand, and twirled away from him. " _But_ , if there's no room for it, then I guess-"

With a guttural groan, he leaned forward, and his fingers firmly curled around the slender curve of her waist. She squealed in surprise as, in one swift movement, he twisted her around, and placed his palms onto the small of her back. He urged her closer until she was intimately pressed against the hardened expanse of his chest, and he swept down and claimed her lips, slightly parted in shock, against his.

Once again, they were a flurry of tangled limbs, groans, and hitched breathing as they somehow found their way onto the sofa. She was pressed into the cushions of the leathered seats, perfectly splayed out beneath him, when they breathlessly pulled apart.

She laughed softly, the sound sultry, as she nipped at his jaw. "I take it you want me to keep the dress?" She questioned, her tone tinged with amusement and an alluring rasp that was driving him insane.

He rolled his eyes, his grin lopsided as he peered down at her. "What do _you_ think?" he drawled, then leaned down and placed a playful kiss on the tip of her nose. "As long as you never wear it in public," he amended, his brow furrowing at the memory of her wearing it to go out. He inwardly grimaced as his overprotective, slightly jealous, tendencies surged forward and momentarily flashed through him.

She smiled, her eyes glinting with a forgiving understanding that made him sigh as she lifted her hand, tenderly swept the hair off his forehead, and tantalizingly caressed the side of his face. "I almost forgot, Mamo-chan," she murmured softly, and he inhaled sharply as she lifted her leg, and shifted beneath him. "Rei-chan texted me and invited us to go to the carnival tonight. I told her we'd go," she stated, and it took a moment for her words to pierce through the foggy haze of his need for her.

When they did though, his eyes widened in horror. "What?" he croaked, his gaze locked onto her face, and his lips parted in protest.

Before he could say anything, she snorted. "Kidding, Mamo-chan!" She chimed brightly. "I would much rather do this," she proclaimed fiercely and laced her fingers into the hair at the back of his head to pull him down for another breathtaking kiss so that they could finish what they'd started.

Though they only had a full two weeks to entirely devote to each other before they would need to face the harsh realities of opposing schedules, insurmountable school work, and less time to spend with each other, he wasn't in the least bit worried. He'd waited his whole life to be with Usagi Tsukino; the clumsy, whirlwind of brightness that expertly lit up the dull greys of his life. He was very aware that what he had with Usagi was rare, and he was infinitely grateful, and extremely elated, that he'd fallen in love with his best friend.

 **The end.**

 **… for real this time.**


End file.
